


Loyalty

by DunWithAllTheseHoes



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Canon Non-Binary Character, Dating, M/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Multi, Online Dating, Polyamory, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 97,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunWithAllTheseHoes/pseuds/DunWithAllTheseHoes
Summary: Brendon wanted something but was never willing to push himself, until he finally does.As a last resort he downloads Tinder, and who he matched with had something a little different in mind, but Brendon wasn't one to say no.





	1. Sickness

Brendon didn't bother closing the door lightly when leaving his apartment.

Coffee in one hand and keys in the other, he made sure everything was locked, taking sips as he walked down the long hallway until he reached the stairs.

He passed by the other apartment doors that held life behind them. Music beating through the wood like it was nothing, but Brendon hummed along when his feet brought him to walk by. He knew the tune. Other sounds weren't as family friendly and the man felt himself purse his lips in discomfort when failed muffled moans entered his ears.

He only walked faster.

Finally, his boots played softly against the steps as he walked down, making it to the bottom and seeing one of his neighbors with a bag full of dirty laundry. She was on her way to the dry cleaners. She went every Sunday.

Brendon waved, lips still in a hard line but he made an attempt to lift it into a smile.

She nodded her head with a grin.

That was enough for him, his heart was already beating fast enough.

He was so bad with people.

The man walked out the doors and made his way to the lot where his car had been parked. A Prius that was used prior, which brought the price down quite a bit since it was worn down, but Brendon loved it.

I mean, it got him around, did it not?

He opened the car door after a nervous shuffle of keys, falling onto the seat that had ripping covers with a huff.

The door was now closed and he was confined within the vehicle. Hands gripping the steering wheel for a moment, he bored his eyes into whatever was in front of him and just sat there.

He saw someone shift uncomfortably when they noticed Brendon's eyes on them.

It wasn't intentional.

He's embarrassed.

Brendon decides it was time to leave. He shoved the key into the ignition and backed out of the lot. He didn't think much of the person and instead paid attention to soft drops of rain that landed on his windsheild. A tunic pitter patter that his heart beat could match.

He pops a CD in labeled 'It's Raining Again'. The rain made him feel some type of way. Like he could stretch his arms out and be free for a while, breathe in the cold air that was so fresh and relieving. But at the same time, he felt so restrained. The rain was keeping him from doing things-- distracting him.

The songs matched those feelings, somehow.

At a stop light, he looked over to his left to see someone pressing the crosswalk button over, and over, and over again in aggravation. A hood covering their frame and a shivers to rack up their spine.

Brendon felt bad for them.

He wanted to help but a flash of green lit up in his dark eyes and he knew he had no time, so he continued driving with a wave of disappointment to wash over him for a few moments.

He sips on his coffee and sings along to music as he drives downtown.

Soon enough he was parked in the lot of the destination he needed to be. Brendon pulls his keys out, shoving them back into his pocket. Making sure his coffee was in hand, he opens the door and steps out.

Raindrops fall against his boots and nose when walking closer to the decently large, pink building.

Walking inside he was met with a few friendly faces. One specific person turned around with a huge smile that could potentially harm her cheeks. "Hey, Sweetie!"

"Hey, Lu." He walked over to the woman named Lucy, waiting for her to give him the visitor clip on his shirt.

"Lunch is going to be served in about ten minutes, you bringing her down today?" The woman asked, shuffling through some drawers to find that specific thing she needed to clip on his clothes.

"Hopefully. You know how stubborn she gets, so I don't really know." Brendon sighed a bit after the statement, taking off his glasses to wipe the rain off of them. He watched her finally pull out the small visitor name badge, snipping it onto his shirt. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay, darling." She ended with, turning back around and walking over to someone else who walked in.

Brendon takes the stairs, the steps creaked with each step and it made him weary.

His eyes drifted to the small diamond shapes on the floor, making sure his feet fell in the middle of each one he passed. If he stepped on the line, he'd step back and continue in the center.

Brendon looked up from his shoes after he counts twenty-two diamonds, watching one of the caretakers help an elderly lady onto her wheelchair. She was sitting in the game room, which consisted of boardgames and a pool table; she was just finishing playing chess.

The man cowards away with a sip of coffee to cover his face when the much younger lady, who had been helping the old woman into her chair, made eye contact with him.

Again, he's horrible with people.

His feet moved one in front of the other. He knew exactly where he was going, he'd been here every weekend for three years now.

Brendon doesn't bother knocking once he finally reaches the room, a sigh of hell erupting from his chest as he turned the door knob and walked into the room. It smelt like cinnamon spice as usual.

Brendon fucking hated cinnamon spice.

After closing the door, he walks further in, setting his drink on the table.

"Mom?" 

She wasn't in the living room as she usually is, watching America's Funniest Home Videos or Cash Cab, his eyebrows furrow.

"Mom?" He asks again, opening the door to her bedroom.

There she lay with hair curling into her flushed, sweaty face, covered in blankets and too many pillows. She must have gone to sleep later last night.

"Mom, get up." Brendon says, not whispering but just above that. His patience runs thin around her, he tries to keep it steady always, though. "Lunch is going to be served soon, we should get you down there. Wanna see Carina?" Her eyes fly open at the name. Carina was a niece of one of the lady in the homes, sweeter than candy and couldn't be rude to a soul.

Brendon was quite fond of her.

She was really the only person he could call a friend.

"Get me my shoes." Grace says, sitting up on her own.

Brendon's glad she remembers at least one person, and he's happy it's Carina. She's hard to forget though, it's not an every day thing to see a walking angel.

Well, heavenly.

The son walks at the edge of her bed and grabs some lavender tennis shoes.

She sticks her feet out and Brendon breathes, already irritated and it hasn't even started. He puts her shoes on with much difficulty, tying them enough for her liking.

He helps her up and soon enough they're out of her revolting apartment.

Although it may sound heartless, Brendon's glad the trauma isn't done to her physically. He doesn't think he'd be able to push a wheel chair constantly or have to help her with every move she made. Maybe it's better or worse, he can't tell. Being physically helpless was one thing, but not being able to remember your own daughter's name is a whole different kind of mental poison.

Brendon's pliant. 

"Mom, use the stairs." He mutters when she heads for the elevevator. There's people in greater need who use that.

Grace rolls her eyes, reluctant at first but follows.

She's like a child.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, he scans around the dining room with plenty of chairs and tables, to find that striking blue hair.

He smiles once seeing it, grabbing his mother's hand and guiding her over to sit down. He pulls out her chair, making sure she was comfortable or else she'd complain about it the entirety of lunch.

"Hey," he says, sitting down beside Carina. She grins widely.

"Hi! I'm so glad you two came down today."

"Me too, sweetheart." Grace says, employees going around asking people what they'd like for lunch. "What are we having today?" 

Brendon grabs the small paper which was supposed to be a menu, reading through it thoroughly, already knowing his mom would hate it. He silently prepares himself for her small fit, clearing his throat. "Chicken panini, turkey sandwich or mushroom soup."

Grace sighs. "They always serve the worst things on Sundays."

There it is.

Brendon bites the inside of his cheek, foot tapping on the floor.

"What seems best?" 

"None."

"Mom," 

She crosses her arms, eyes shifting to her son, who was more of a parent than she was.

"Turkey sandwich. . ." She mutters.

Brendon nods, leaning back into his chair. He's lucky his mother wasn't being too rowdy as she usually is, this isn't that bad, he can deal with it, he'll be okay.

Carina purses her lips in a small frown, grabbing Brendon's hand in empathy. He's told her multiple times how hard it is to be around his mother, not just because of how difficult she makes it, but what it does to him mentally. He isn't able to process that this is how it really is; his mother depends on others to live and there's nothing he can do to change that.

Brendon wants his mom back.

He'll have to deal, though.


	2. Self-Esteem

Brendon doesn't make it home until nine. He's been on edge since lunch but he didn't want to make a scene.

Carina held his hand for as long as she could, he so unbelievably thankful for her. He didn't have to say anything for her to know it was getting bad again. Her eyes were glowing, her cheeks were flushed, and she pressed a kiss against his forehead before he left.

Now he's alone at his apartment, that doesn't smell like cinnamon spice at all.

He decides it's going to smell like marijuana, already rolling a joint.

His hands shake as usual, it seems to get harder every day. Hair falls in his face, he has to readjust his glasses, nothing feels like everything.

Brendon sighs after struggling for so long, burning the end before taking a drag.

He does this too often but not enough, it helps him though and that's what matters.

Brendon basks in the feeling after the high has finally gotten to him, the ceiling fan buzzing and his breaths becoming louder. He sinks into the couch, eyes stuck to the wall and just feeling it. It's better, his heart follows the mellow track he's on and everything is fine.

He thinks about buying a TV soon, being far too quiet for his liking.

Loneliness lingers but marijuana mends with his soul, allowing him to feel welcomed for a little while instead of drowning in self pity.

It's like that for the rest of the night until he finally has the decency to sleep, crashing while everything still was in slow motion. The fan creeks loudly in the living room, he wished he would have closed his door. It was too late for that though, he was already asleep seconds after his body hit the sheets, shoes still on, glasses on the coffee table in the other room.

It's eerie.

***

Brendon is a bit laid back the next day. He usually is after a something like that.

Being around his mother always made him emotional. Physically or mentally, he never can register the reality of the situation and it was one of the biggest factors that egged his anxiety on.

It's so hard seeing your own mom in that situation.

He sits in the breakroom eating his salad, chewing to himself. He's clad in a white button up and some dark gray slacks as usual, other office workers laughing along to what another said across the room. Yeah, Brendon really is a loner. It's not intentional, though, and that's what makes it worse.

Obviously his co-workers will talk to him, but usually for their own benefit.

People in this work setting were selfish.

Brendon sighs, eating a cherry tomato.

He looks out the window, seeing the scenery of other tall buildings and rushing cars. He feels so small in this world.

"Hey, Bren." Brendon hates when people call him that here.

He looks forward once more, seeing one of the most hard working women at the cubicles. Debby. She had fair hair and full lips. She's okay, tolerable, she brags a lot.

"Hey."

She starts to get comfortable in the seat in front of him, bending forward until her elbows were pressed against the table. She smiles, lipstick a deep rogue color. It suits her. Brendon is waiting for her mouth to run. Debby talks a lot, whether she was willing to admit it or not.

"So," Brendon feels his breath becoming heavier already. "The Ryan's and I are going out to the pub tonight, we were wondering if you wanted to go."

Debby Ryan, Ryan Adams, and Ryan Ross. They were a power trio here.

It was confusing at times being around the three of them, mostly the two Ryan's, but Ryan A preferred to be called Ryland. It was weird, Brendon forgot how it even started. It stuck, though.

"Um. . ." He mumbles.

"Ugh! Brendon!" Debby whines, sitting back. "You always back out of my offers so soon."

Brendon frowns. "I haven't even said anything. . ."

"Yeah, and I can already tell you're gonna say no." Debby argues, crossing her arms with a pouted lip.

"I'm just not comfortable going out. I have a hard time." He shrugs, continuing to eat his lightly dressed salad.

"I know, and that's why I'm trying to help you put yourself out there." She makes it seem so simple, Brendon wished it was that easy. "I'm sure if you just went places with us you'd get people clinging to you in seconds." Debby grabs a cherry tomato from the container with his salad and pops it into her mouth.

Brendon bites his lip. "It's not that simple for me."

"Because you're blowing it out of proportions."

He clenches his fists beneath the table, exhaling deeply at the remark.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She sighs, realizing her mistake. "I just. . . I feel bad. I know how alone you feel, it's really obvious. I just want to help you; I want to see you happy."

Brendon stays quiet, eyes shifting downwards.

Is it really that obvious?

His stomach nearly churns at the thought, leg starting to bounce.

"I'm really thankful you care so much about me Debby, but I just can't." He shakes his head, eating the last of his food.

She looks disappointed, messing with her nose ring as another way of biting her tongue. Brendon's lucky she's thoughtful enough to keep stuff to herself-- most of the time. She really was a blabber mouth. "Promise me you'll try to push yourself, somehow? You don't have to go out, just. . . You can figure it out."

Brendon rolls his eyes subtly, bitterly. "I promise."

Debby stands up, satisfied with that.

She leans over the table, pressing a kiss to Brendon's temple. They aren't this close, he doesn't know why she's acting like this.

Debby walks out of the break room, heels clicking loudly against the floor. He sees her skirt ride up while she does so. He smiles to himself, leaning back into the chair after shaking whilst shaking his head. Debby wasn't that bad, he can deal with her.

He thinks about her words the rest of break, maybe she was right.

***

Brendon is half asleep when he gets home, he usually is with work after the weekends.

He unbuttons his shirt, chest bare for no one except for himself to see. He needs to shower, badly. His hair can't stand straight because of how long its been, falling down onto his forehead and reminding him of his haircut in highschool.

God, no.

He drags his feet along the floor until he's in the bathroom, turning on the shower before he's fully undressed so the water can warm.

Brendon looks at himself in the mirror, he's becoming pale.

Then he notices how his lips are chapped, and then he notices how much his facial hair he has grown, and then how prominent the bags underneath his eyes have become. And then, and then, and then.

He's a mess.

He steps into the shower once it's a decent enough temperature, moaning in relief when the hot water hits his back, already relaxing his tense muscles.

Brendon slowly falls back into his rhythm after a long few days. Using coconut shampoo and pomegranate conditioner, fingers soothing on his scalp. He closes his eyes, allowing his body to be drowned out by the comforting warmth and pleasant smells. He hums the songs stuck in his head which also happened to be on the last CD he listened to.

Music was a safe place for him.

The shower lasts longer than it usually does, he needed it today.

Cold air hits him as soon as he's out, drying off his hair as much as he could before tying a towel around his waist.

Brendon wasn't all that confident in his body. People like his sister and Debby tell him he's well off but he has a hard time believing it. Most people do. He has a natural built frame, not too scrawny and not too broad. He's kind of in between, which isn't such a bad thing, he is just troubled with anxieties.

Soon enough he's dressed, laying down on his bed.

He doesn't smoke tonight but maybe tomorrow.

He's only staring at the ceiling. Debby's words dancing around in his mind.

She was a bit pushy. Maybe that was just her way of trying to make new friends. Whether she was controlling or not, she did seem to care at least a tad about Brendon's happiness and that's important to him.

Will a significant other really bring him the happiness he needs, though? Debby surely thinks so.

Brendon's tried.

His lips twitch into smiles at Starbucks and he offers to buy people's drinks sometimes.

Whatever he was doing wasn't working.

What more could he do? He couldn't even explain how nervous he gets trying to talk to anyone. How was he supposed to know if this lady had a boyfriend or not or if this man was even into other men? It's such a hard cycle. Stressful. Nerve wracking. He can't handle it.

Brendon wonders if it's even possible to put yourself out there without actually putting yourself out there.

He's feels incapable of anything.

He groans, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillows. They were cold.

He thinks, and thinks, and thinks, then Brendon suddenly holds his breath when a thought comes in mind.

Online.

Maybe that's what Debby meant. The only possible way to put yourself out there without actually doing so is to turn to the internet. That's the only thing that makes sense to him.

Brendon sighs, now thinking what he could do.

Does he even want to put himself out there or is he doing this for Debby?

No. This is for himself. He's sick of not being enough, not doing enough and not being able to satisfy his own needs. It gets tiring having to be your own person, because sometimes even he doesn't understand his wants and needs. Although the thought of being in a relationship is menacing itself, part of being in a relationship is comfortability.

Brendon grabs his phone, going to the app store and stupidly writing 'dating app' when no names come to mind.

He sees a few he's heard of like Match and OkCupid. He scrolls a bit further until Tinder catches his eye. He's heard about it over and over around work, he knows it's an extremely popular dating app.

He reads through the reviews and sees nothing but good things, he installs it.

Brendon bites the inside of his cheek, moving his toes anxiously while it downloads.

Soon enough it's on his home screen, he clicks on it and begins making an account.

Most things he needs to fill out are normal, like his name and age.

Then comes his description, and his mind immediately goes blank. What is there to write? Brendon has come to the conclusion that he is the most uninteresting person you could meet, which already in itself is a turn off.

"Fuck." He groans.

_I love music and coffee._

It's terse but so is he, he deems it good enough and carries on creating his profile.

It asks for 'his anthem' and one song quickly comes to mind.

Bohemian Rhapsody.

Brendon adds his pictures reluctantly, not having very many pictures of himself at all. He has a difficult time deciding which ones he looked good in but finally he found six he was happy with.

Brendon huffs, finally finished with his entire profile after a few more things to fill.

He presses a button to conclude he was finished and was brought to the beginning of it all. He decides to get comfortable in bed, piling pillows behind him until he was propped up to his liking.

It was going to be a long night, but that might not be such a bad thing.


	3. Personal

Brendon spends nearly half an hour helplessly swiping left or right, he's bored. He's texted a few people here and there, the men being a bit more abrupt than some of the women on here.

He tries not to dwell too much on why he's on the app. To him, dating apps were like the last resort; dating apps were for when you've completely given up on yourself. Yes, he knows it's not like that for everyone, but most. Brendon's sighing to himself every so often, thumb sliding to the right once he reads someone's poor excuse of their love for adventure.

" _Damn_ ," he suddenly mutters, a new profile on screen.

Brendon observes with hooded eyes. He sees dark brown hair and pale skin. He sees _Josh_ and he sees _29_.

Brendon's quick to click on his picture to explore more in depth. This guy was definitely a looker, he's nearly baffled he's even on the app.

"How has no one. . ."

Brendon goes through his pictures one by one. The first is Josh in the sun, eyes practically glistening hazel with his smile shining just the same. The second is him casually drinking coffee out of a mug with a pun on it, the third is one where he looks much more smug than the others. And the forth is a mirror picture. "What the fuck."

Josh wasn't alone in this one.

He's snuggling his nose into someone else's neck, one arm around them while the other takes the picture.

"Knew it was too good to be true," Brendon says to himself, about to click away until something catches his eye.

The description, something pops out fast.

 _Third member_.

He furrows his brows, scrolling down farther to see what it was.

_Hi, I'm Josh. I enjoy a lot of things that are probably too uninteresting for your liking - photography, coffee, sleep. But one thing I'm extremely interested in is you! My husband and I are looking for a third member to our happy party, and I'm sure that's interesting enough. Please, message me for questions, I'm happy to answer them._

Brendon blinks.

Tinder is weird.

He blinks again.

While the thoughts are processing, he looks back at the last picture to examine it once more. That person must be Josh's husband. Him and Josh are dissimilar. His head is buzzed and he's a golden shade of tan, unlike Josh. His frame is a lot smaller as well. Brendon clears his throat.

He's never the one to judge others, but he's not sure he understands.

Why get married if you haven't found your third person yet?

Why Tinder?

Brendon doesn't understand. Maybe that isn't his fault. There's room for confusion, and that's why he decides to send a message, he supposed.

It's a simple hello before he goes back and swipes right.

_It's A Match!_

His eyes become wider as it flashes across his phone screen. It came as a shock to him that Josh has ran past his account already, it came as an even bigger shock to him that he even said yes. What is there to Brendon that Josh finds valuable enough for that sort of commitment? Was Josh even the one running the account or was it the both of them?

Brendon really did have a lot of questions.

He exhales, hoping to be answered.

He continues swiping, coming to terms with the fact most people just used this app for sex. Unwanted messages roll in about how they were free tonight, even going as far as sending their addresses without any context. What was Brendon really expecting, though.

His eyes shift to the next one that pops up, but this one was different.

He presses it, surprised Josh had replied so quickly.

**Hey. (:**

Brendon shakes his head at the smiley face, pulling up his keyboard. His thumbs rush across as he types, eyes following, fidgeting.

**I did not expect you to respond that fast, my god.**

Brendon was about to go back to browsing but then another text comes through.

**Hahaha, why?**

He doesn't see why Josh doesn't understand. His profile description says it all, really. He doesn't give much information about himself, says he has a husband, is looking for another person for them, and then goes to ask him questions if needed. Everything about that was asking for a full inbox.

**I mean, I'm sure you get a lot of people messaging you. You don't have the most... generic profile, I guess you could say. Hah.**

**Surprisingly, I don't get very many messages.**

**What?**

**How?**

**I think people are just scared of commitment.**

Brendon chuckles. He finds it humorous, mostly because it's absolutely true. Commitment was a menacing thing, to everyone really. Intimidating, you don't know the outcome but you're praying for some certainty. There's not a lot of certainty about Josh's profile, Brendon is sure that's why people aren't being proactive.

**You're not wrong.**

**Yeah. You must not be though.**

He laughs dry and sarcastically as he writes his response.

**I wish I could say I wasn't.**

**Well you texted me, that must be saying something.**

Brendon supposes that's true in a sense. It wasn't that he lacked intimidation, it was only that curiosity got the best of him. He was alright with the decision to be so open minded; his motto was ease. He follows by that, and he didn't mind virgin subjects as much as others.

**I'm just intrigued, or something like that. This situation is pretty anomalous, man.**

He cringed at the last word. Calling someone you're possibly interested in a name you'd call an acquaintance probably isn't the best choice.

**I get it. I'm guessing you have questions, yeah?**

**Definitely.**

**But I really don't want to come off as some ignorant prick.**

Brendon hopes Josh is alright with swearing. He doesn't think about it when speaking, he sometimes even forgets people could be extremely bothered by the slightly offensive vocabulary.

**Believe me, even if you did, I'm sure I could deal with it. Besides, I highly doubt you'd say anything that'd tick me off.**

Brendon's not too sure what that's supposed to mean. He thinks it's a compliment but it sure doesn't come across blatantly. He shrugs his shoulders at the thought, deciding to move past it and ask the first thing on his list of many.

**Well, I guess I'll just ask first off, are you and your husband in an open relationship or...**

Brendon sighs, knowing that probably sounds so stupid.

**I wouldn't call it that. I think we just enjoy extra company. It makes the both of us comfortable. We trust each other a lot, we wouldn't do anything that would make our relationship suffer.**

**I guess what I'm trying to say is that we aren't separately seeing people and coming back to one another, we just want someone to love as three.**

**I hope that makes sense.**

It takes a bit longer than the other texts but that only makes sense. Josh seems to be comfortable talking about it, how could he not? Brendon reads through it, trying to think it over to a point where it doesn't seem so messy. He's never even really thought about being with more than one person, maybe many people don't. Josh and his significant other seem to be different from others, anyways. 

**It does.**

**If it's both of your guy's decision then do the both of you run this account or does he have one of his own?**

Having two profiles seems complex.

**Tyler did have their own but people were really creepy so they deleted it. We kinda run this one together. It's mostly me but I get their opinion on people, obviously.**

**Also Tyler's non-binary, please respect that.**

Brendon purses his lips.

He's only heard a few things about being non-binary, and he could easily say he's extremely uneducated when it comes to the subject.

**Oh god, no disrespect of course but I don't know anything at all about being non-binary, so I guess that's my next question to you. Could you tell me a little bit more about it? I'd really appreciate it.**

He doesn't want to sound rude. He's big on respecting people, whether it's something he understands or not.

**Yeah, of course. It's pretty simple.**

**Tyler uses they/them/their pronouns. They don't feel comfortable going by he and definitely not she, so they're kind of in the middle, or even on the outskirts of the "spectrum", or whatever you'd like to call it.**

It makes a lot more sense now, even though he still has some uncertainty. Brendon was completely gone from that description. 

**Is non-binary a term for transgender?**

Brendon feels like biting his fucking nails. He forgets how anxious he is talking to new people.

**It's really up to the person. Some non-binary people aren't fond of being called transgender at all, but others identify as trans.**

**What does your husband identify as?**

**Tyler should probably answer that. They're not home right now, though.**

Brendon wants to ask why Josh couldn't just tell him. If they're married shouldn't he know? Does he not know? Or does he not feel accountable to answer that because it isn't himself? Brendon exhales, it is Tyler's body after all, they probably feel better disclosing that kind of information themself.

**Well, I can wait.**

**Alright. They'll be home soon enough anyways.**

**I'm sure you've heard enough about my life for one sitting, tell me about yours, hmm?**

What's there to say; he's miserable. He lives in an apartment all alone, works until he's a walking zombie, and takes care of his mother like a babysitter on the weekends. He's pretty much a slave to this world, tortured by a clouded mind and loneliness, although he'd never admit that.

**I'm not very interesting.**

**I'd beg to differ.**

**What's that supposed to mean?**

**You messaged me. That's a start. Nothing about me is uninteresting.**

Brendon chuckles. He doesn't think about it that way, but really he's just desperate. For what? He doesn't even know himself. He'd say love but that's too cliché, even for him.

**Hey, Tyler's home. I'll be back.**

Brendon doesn't respond, instead he spends this time looking throughout people's accounts and trying to ignore the burn beyond his abdomen. He can confidently say that speaking to new people through text is a lot less stressful than up front, but he's still a mess.

He doesn't get a notification. He sighs once again.

The man looks at the time. It's halfway past ten, it's getting late.

Brendon walks out of his small bedroom and into the kitchen which was even smaller. He grabs a Bud light out of the refrigerator, taking a sip to start off. 

The sun has set by now and the moon is making itself known. What's also making itself known is the decently loud sound of a headboard getting hit repeadedtly against the wall to his right. He rolls his eyes, walking back into his bedroom after taking a piss.

He walks over to to the corner of his room where his record player was, slipping _Nice 'N' Easy_ by Frank Sinatra out of its cover and watching the needle fall onto it once it was placed down. He messes with the sound dial until the volume was good enough for him.

Brendon's back onto the bed after that, checking his phone again.

Nothing from Josh, only the others that were making jejune talk.

Brendon's eyes roll again. He starts to swipe left or right once more in the meantime.

He hums along to the music, then singing when he feels like it, one hand holding beer while the other goes through people's profiles pathetically.

Finally, after about twenty minutes of this, a message from Josh pops up at the top of his screen. Brendon doesn't waste time to press it, slightly upset that it took so long.

**Hey.**

**Hey. Is your husband there?**

**This is them.**

Brendon gulps, he doesn't know why his palms are becoming clammy so fast. 

**Oh, hi. I'm Brendon. I was just asking a few questions and Josh told me there's one you should probably answer yourself.**

**Yeah, he told me pretty much everything.**

He wonders if that's why it took longer than usual for a response. Josh was probably filling Tyler in on everything that happened, probably showing them the texts and sharing his thoughts about him. God, that makes Brendon's heart thump so loud.

**And honestly, I haven't thought about it. I guess that sounds kind of weird because it's such a big thing but I just know who I am, and being non-binary allows me to be comfortable in my own skin, and confident even. I guess I prefer being referred to just as non-binary, but I don't think I'd be that upset if someone thought I was transgender.**

Brendon smiles. He's actually smiling at his phone like an idiot. Maybe he's feeling a slight buzz but he's only happy by how honest Tyler and Josh both were. They were happy to inform people and comfortable with themselves, which you don't see very often.

**Okay. I get it. I'm glad you can be happy with yourself, that's really important.**

He sounds so stupid.

**Yeah, I agree, and thank you.**

**Anyways, I'll hand you back to Josh. It's been a long day and I'm going to pass out.**

**Nice meeting you. You seem nice. A lot nicer than most people on here.**

Brendon already knows he's going to dwell on that more than he should. Like he said, most people on here only want sex, they only want sex and if things are too complicated or they don't understand, they're going to get upset. Brendon's not that way at all, though. He can't even really remember the last time he even had an intimate moment with anyone. It had to have been months ago.

His life is sad.

**Brendon?**

**Josh?**

**Yeah. It's me.**

**I haven't really seen Tyler much today, they've been working all day, so I'm just going to head to bed with them.**

**Oh, okay.**

**It was nice talking to you, really.**

**I'll message you tomorrow.**

**The same goes for you two.**

**And alright, goodnight.**

**Goodnight.**

Brendon bites down on his lip, eyes shifting to his bed stand. The beer bottle is nearly empty, he's definitely not going to finish it anymore. He plugs in his phone charger and and sets it down, making sure to turn off the record player before he lays down himself.

Tonight was good, he'd say.

 


	4. Reality

Brendon types away on his computer, pushing his glasses up every so often when they begin go fall.

Working at an office, in cubicles, will never be fun. His arms ache from being in the same position for too long and his eyes burn the longer he's looking at the screen. Brendon knows he should be used to this by now, having been doing this for months on end, yet he's not.

When his co-workers aren't shouting or laughing in the break room, all you hear is the obnoxious noise of fingers against keyboards.

It fills the entire floor.

Being at work makes Brendon a ticking time bomb, and he'd explode if he wasn't so reluctant.

He can hear the new employee beside him whispering to himself over and over again.

"Which allows them to. . . Which allows them to. . . Which allows them to. . ."

Brendon bounces his leg, pulling his hands away from his work and listening to the lingering tone. The man seems lost, not knowing what to write after _which allows them t_ o so Brendon stands, rolling chair making a strange noise while he did so.

He carefully turns the corner, seeing the dirty blonde nearly bent into his knees in frustration.

"Uh-mm, you okay?" He's so awkward.

Brendon can't remember his name but he turns around, tired eyes and steady lips.

They're just looking at one another, okay. Brendon's cheeks are quickly bursting into a heavy blush, gripping the cubicle wall.

The other man turns back to look at his computer. "I'm just lost, dude."

"What are you doing?"

"Sending a fucking email." He laughs bitterly, seemingly upset with himself for getting dismayed over something so simple. Brendon does it too often, and he's still on the road of remorse and forgiveness. It's a bit different in a work setting though, he understands what it's like to feel stuck on the smaller things you have to do.

"Need help?"

Reluctant at first, the blonde shrugs his shoulders with a nod.

Brendon gets closer, crouching to the desks level and seeing what has been written out. It's not too bad, looking professional enough for Boss to praise him for.

"Well, your layout is good." He mutters, then clearing his throat.

Voice is troubling for him. It always has been. He always wanted to express himself and he wanted to be the person he always desired but something always had a hold on him, and wouldn't let go. No matter how much pushing, he's completely given up, truly, and he's ashamed to admit that.

"I know that, I'm just stuck right here." The tone isn't harsh, only aggravated within itself.

Brendon watches him point to a part of the screen where he was struggling.

"If you're so stuck on what's to come, maybe change the sentence before so it can flow." That seems like the only choice without having an internal battle.

It's quiet between the two of them again, the new employee seems to use this silence to make sense of Brendon's words. Soon enough, he places his feet back down on the floor instead of having his knees tucked into his chest.

"Yeah, yeah. You're right. Okay." He scootches back into the desk and presses the delete button.

"Alright," Brendon stands.

"Thank you so much."

"Of course. . ." His cheeks are still hot, he feels bad.

"Lukas."

Brendon nods.

His lips twitch into a smile, turning the corner and walking back into his own cubicle.

He huffs when sitting down, running his hand through his hair to push it back. He did well, he did okay. Yeah, it's only at work and it's not someone at a food joint or wherever else you meet people, but he talked to someone first. He did it. And pretty well, at that.

Brendon smiles even wider to himself, he felt good today.

***

In the break room, Brendon's eating a bagel.

It's a chocolate chip one with a decent amount of cream cheese. Some stays on the corner of his lips, he doesn't notice. He's too busy cracking grins at his phone screen, having a casual conversation with Josh.

He's been messaging him when he wasn't too busy, they were mostly talking about their hobbies and what they were up to. Brendon had learned Josh is a professional photographer, which he finds tremendously appealing.

**Someone** **thought** **I** **was a nude photographer once.** **That** **was a weird** **experience** **.**

Brendon covers his mouth in shock, not too sure if he wanted to laugh.

He does.

"What's got you smiling?" He suddenly hears, Debby pulling out the chair in front of him and sitting down.

Brendon looks up at her and purses his lips, looking back down at his phone to ignore the question.

**What all happened?**

**Let's** **just** **say** **I** **had a lot** **of** **explaining** **to** **do** **when** **Tyler** **saw the** **pictures** **.**

Brendon wants to know whether that kind of situation would be simple to understand, if Tyler was upset, or if Tyler even cared at all. They seemed very passive, in a good way, and it was obvious the two had a lot of faith in one another.

**Wait** **you** **actually** **went** **through** **with photographing them** **nude** **? Oh my god.**

**I got paid,** **didn't** **I** **?** **Hah.**

"Brendon." 

"Yeah?" He sighs, looking at Debby again.

"I've never seen you smile at work, what's happening." 

Did he really never smile? He's never thought about it. Work dragged him down, there was no room to be cheerful. He wasn't very cheerful, anyways.

"I've just been okay today." He shrugs, not knowing how to explain it.

"Well, that's good. I'm glad." She pulls out a small fruit parfait for herself, taking a bite and chewing loudly even with her mouth closed. Brendon wasn't too sure how that was even possible, but Debby was doing wonders. "I have a feeling something has happened, though."

Brendon bites until the inside of his cheek is rough.

He doesn't know what to say. He's just happy he's been able to push himself these lasts two days.

" _Brendon_! Are you. . ." She's smirking, eyebrow quirked.

He doesn't understand what she's hinting at. "What?"

"Did I actually push you to meet someone? Who is it? What did you guys do together?" Blabber fucking mouth, shut up, shut up, shut up.

"I. . . I only downloaded Tinder." Brendon deflates for an unknown manner, feeling belittled. "I don't know, I just. . . It seemed like the only reasonable thing to do if I really do want to meet someone." He shrugs his shoulders again.

Debby is giddy.

Brendon eats his bagel.

"Yes! That's what I was talking about, putting yourself out there!" She does a little dance in her seat, eating more of her food.

Brendon can admit, being on the app has been amusing him. He has something to think about during the day instead of wondering if his mom ate in peace or if he would be able to push through without getting nervous for once. It made everything subdue, and allowed him to put his mind to interacting with others.

And he likes talking to Josh, especially.

"So, are you talking to anyone?" Debby leans in, cleavage subtly scandalous.

He blushes again, he's been blushing all damn day.

"I. . . I, kinda?" He scratches the nape of his neck, feeling hot.

"Oh, my gosh. You've gotta show me." She's even closer, Brendon considers showing her pictures of Josh and conversations with him and others.

Although he's been talking to more than just him, Josh has been his priority. He was so different than everyone else; he was good at making Brendon feel casual within their messages and with everyone else it was an awkward back and forth that could definitely be painful to read through.

"Well, um," he's about to show her his phone screen until it hits him.

No.

He can't show her.

Debby will read Josh's profile and judge Brendon, wondering why he'd be interested in a guy like this. She wouldn't look at him the same. She would think he was insane for being open to the idea of being with two instead of just one.

It's blabber mouth. He can't show her.

"I haven't been talking to anyone enough to show you anything." Brendon breathes out, feeling embarrassed.

She sighs. "Hopefully soon."

Brendon glances down at Josh's messages. "Yeah."

***

What happened at break really made Brendon think. 

If he truly wanted to try _this_ , to try to mend with the love between and not beside, was he always going to feel that way? Ashamed? If so, was it worth it? It was Debby-- someone he definitely didn't trust with his privacy-- and maybe that was the cause. 

But what if it wasn't.

He considers how he'd feel if he told someone like Carina, and still, it makes him uneasy.

This is all so new to Brendon, and even he himself is not completely comfortable with the thought yet, and that's why he's been trying to ease his way into it, ask questions and not pressure himself to be someone he wasn't, to do something he didn't want to.

He wants to talk to Josh and Tyler more, and only keep that to himself right now.

He hopes that's okay.

**What** **are** **you** **up to?**

Brendon swallows, losing his tie and taking in his surroundings.

**Nothing** **, really.**

He's never doing anything when he's actually home. He'll shower sometimes, sit on his couch, smoke weed if he needs to, and sleeps.

He's so bored with his own company.

**That's** **boring** **.**

**Tyler** **and** **I** **are watching TV. Face Off, ever heard of it?**

The only time Brendon ever gets to watch television is when he's at his mom's, and even then, it's the same two shows: America's Funniest Home Videos and Cash Cab. He doesn't mind them, but he wants to watch something else sometimes.

**I** **don't** **have** **a TV,** **so** **no.**

Brendon sighs, that message sounded so bitter, accidentally.

**No TV!**

**Maybe** **I'll** **buy one soon.** **I'm** **just** **never** **really home** **enough** **for it to be useful.**

**A TV is always useful.**

He couldn't argue with that. He has nothing to do when coming home, he'll sit down and stare at the wall, listening to everyone around him living their best lives. And he's just sitting there, staring at a wall while someone praises the other, getting more intimacy and affection in one night than Brendon gets in a year.

He could be blocking all of reality out. Maybe he should do that.

He wouldn't have to feel so bad about himself, then.

**We're** **cold.**

Josh sends a picture of them holding hands.

Brendon glues his eyes on the photo Josh sends, heart in his throat. It really hits him now; he's not just talking to Josh, he's talking to his husband too.

Is this what he wanted?

Was he okay possibly being with more than one person?

Brendon sighs, gritting his teeth anxiously. He's so unsure of everything that's been happening, but it didn't seem like a bad thing. He's just hoping everything will be okay.

He's _begging_ for everything to be okay.

 


	5. Confession

It's nearly been a week since he downloaded Tinder, and Brendon hasn't felt this awake in years.

Although he's at the retirement home again today, he isn't looking so grim. He sits next to his mother, Cash Cab on the television but he's too caught up in texting Josh to pay attention to the show.

Since talking for six days, Josh had decided he would give Brendon his phone number. Having to go on the app every time he wanted to text him had become a struggle, and Brendon was happy with that decision.

He even had Tyler's number, too.

They haven't had an actual conversation yet, but he had it.

It was really nice having someone to talk to, someone you can converse lightly with and not have something blow up in your face.

Brendon supposed that's why he's having such a good time talking with Josh.

He's so scared of reactions, and since he has such a hard time getting his points across, people could always take what he said the wrong way. One of his biggest fears is upsetting people, and he's sure that's why he struggles to meet new people and just talking to people in general.

Meeting someone online has so much ease to it, there was nothing to gauge except words.

Brendon was doing well.

"I need to use the bathroom." Grace pipes up, the son is not pleased with that.

"Alright. . ."

He sets his phone down on the couch once standing, helping his mother up as well. They drag their feet to the bathroom, Grace pulling down her pants and carefully sitting on the toilet.

Brendon clears his throat, turning his back because seeing his mom like this is unsettling.

He knows he should be used to it by now, she's been like this for years, and yet he can't stand invading her privacy although she couldn't care less, she doesn't have it in her to care.

They paused Cash Cab, it's quiet and Brendon crosses his arms.

He can't help but think about why everything had to land on him; he has four other siblings and yet he somehow is the only one who can-- who is willing-- to go through the torment of helping their mother through her difficulties.

They can't bare to see her like this but Brendon has to witness it every weekend.

He hates everything.

His siblings are all grown. Kyla is pregnant and Mason, Matt, and Kara already have kids, who never get to see their uncle because of how selfish their parents are.

They're going to regret not visiting.

If something ever happens, they're going to despise themselves.

They're going to feel so much regret, and that's no one's fault except their own.

"Mom?" He asks, she's been in there for a while.

When he turns around again, he sees her spinning the toilet paper in circles, never grabbing the end of it.

"Mom," he sighs, walking over and getting a decent amount of toilet paper for her.

Grace grabs it, eyebrows nearly furrowed. She looks at it in her hand and then fiddles with it. Brendon doesn't understand what's happening, he watches her look at the toilet paper like she's never seen it before, and suddenly, Brendon's heart hurts.

"Y-you need to wipe. . ."

Grace nods.

Brendon's lips twitch into a smile, thank God.

But no, nothing is good. Grace still doesn't do anything, she only sits there with a blank look.

Brendon swallows. "Do you remember how to wipe?"

The mother shakes her head, her son wants to cry. He breathes heavily, nodding to himself. He can handle this, he can do this.

Brendon grabs the toilet paper from out of her hands and demonstrates with an ache in his chest, with an ache on his stomach, with an ache in his heart. Forgetting someone's name is one thing, forgetting something this important is another.

"Like that," he says, handing it back to his mother.

She seems to understand now, wiping herself and slowly getting up from the toilet after flushing.

Brendon doesn't understand how she forgets to wipe but not to flush.

He doesn't think about it too much, watching his mother wash her hands once she pulls her pants back up.

It still smells like cinnamon spice.

Soon enough, after Grace complaining about how her hands were wet, they were back on the floral sofa. Brendon has one knee pulled to his chest, back on his phone, while Grace was under blankets because she kept pestering about how cold she was.

Brendon continues texting Josh, apologizing for not answering.

***

Carina and Brendon sit together in the game room while their mothers play chess with one another.

"Anything new?" She asks, head tilting.

He shrugs his shoulders, quickly getting nervous at the question. There was most definitely something new but Brendon's not sure if hes ready to tell her. Yes, he's fully comfortable confessing that he's finally putting himself out there, but how would Carina act if he tells her _who_ he's talking with?

"One of my co-workers convinced me to download Tinder." Brendon breathes.

"Really? That's good, I'm glad you're trying to meet people." She smiles widely, patting his thigh.

"I didn't want to at first but I'm really starting to enjoy it." He confesses, feeling okay talking to Carina about it.

He just won't go too far into details.

"I'm so glad." It's genuine, Carina always is. "Have you been talking to anyone?"

Brendon, as usual, bites the inside of his cheeks. It's such a bad habit and he wished for it to stop but he knows it won't any time soon. It's only going to stop if the nerves stop, and he's had them his whole life, are they ever going to end?

He doesn't think so.

"I've been talking to a few people, but mostly this guy named Josh." Brendon's not sure if he should mention Tyler.

He decides not to.

"What's he like?" Carina wonders, watching their moms.

Brendon gives an anxious smile, nodding. His heart is beating so loudly.

"He's a photographer, and he has a great sense of humor. Well, I think so at least." Brendon feels a little hot, and he knows it's because he isn't telling his _only_ friend the complete story.

There was so much more to say.

Carina is visibly pleased. "How long have you two been talking?"

"Almost a week now." Brendon's proud.

She nods, then starts running her dainty fingers through his thick strands of hair. It's comforting, Brendon doesn't mind, he's leaning into it.

"He hasn't been suggestive, has he? I know how Tinder is, the majority of people on there are just looking for sex." The words are anything but malicious, she's only concerned for her friend. Carina knows already how hard it is for him to just talk and build a relationship, and if anyone was going to use his body, that would make Brendon lose all confidence and hope he ever had.

She can't let that happen, that would break her heart.

Brendon seems to tense at that, though.

He's never even considered that. What if Josh and Tyler _were_ only using him for sex?

He's not accusing, he's just vulnerable, and he knows that.

No, Josh has never been suggestive from what he could tell, but maybe he was trying to be subtle about it. Maybe the reason he gave Brendon his number was so he could trust him more. Maybe this always was a trick for their own benefits.

Brendon frowns, this has happened before.

Carina seems to notice his mood change.

"Hey, I wasn't saying he was, I just don't want anyone to fuck with your feelings, Bren." She leans her head on his shoulder, fingers still in his hair.

Brendon then thinks about Tyler. They didn't seem like the type of person to play with feelings.

Them and Josh were married adults for Christ's sake, Brendon hopes no one was so immature and selfish in that kind of situation.

He tries not to worry too much about but he knows he will.

He overthinks everything.

"So far he hasn't said anything questionable, and I hope he doesn't." Brendon feels his phone vibrate, he knows it's Josh. They have been having the most lame conversation about their favorite coffee, because the two of them seemed to have that in common.

"I hope he doesn't either." Carina is so gentle to the touch.

Brendon wonders what Josh messaged him, he doesn't have the right set of mind to check it, though, especially not with Carina beside him.

What if he mentioned something about Tyler?

She would definitely have questions.

"I think having someone there for you could really do you some good." Carina continues, Brendon swears Debby said something just like that.

"Hopefully," Brendon says.

He can't even describe how much he needed someone. He wanted to come home from his mom's on the weekend and be held, he wanted to eat dinner and talk to one another about their day, and all he could ever ask for is to feel loved, and confident, and comfortable. He didn't want to feel so scared.

He hoped one day that would become a reality.


	6. Reminiscence

By Sunday, Brendon is feeling better than he did last weekend. He's offering cautious smiles and wasn't so bitter towards his mother, which was always a good thing.

Josh had been giving him company without actually doing so, and it was helping a lot.

The whole weekend Brendon had been swiping through Tinder while his mom watched television. He finally had something to do instead of sitting through reruns of shows he's seen multiple times.

It was tiring.

Josh liked sending pictures of random things he was doing throughout the day, Brendon had learned. He would do the same but what was there to send photos of? His ill mother? The bags beneath his eyes? The diamonds on the floor, or the wheelchairs that rolled on top of them?

Brendon wasn't comfortable with the thought, anyways.

What if he sent a picture of himself at work and Josh decided he didn't look as well as he did in his profile pictures?

What if he shows Tyler and they didn't like him?

What if Brendon wasn't the way the two of them pictured him to be?

"I'll see you next weekend, mom." He mutters, leaning forward to give her a hug on the couch. She pats his shoulder, then tells him to move because he's in front of the television. He shakes his head but does so.

Walking to the small table, he collects his keys and wallet, making sure he had his phone before beginning to leave.

He's nearly out the door when Grace finally says something.

"When will Kara come and visit?"

Brendon stops. It's rare she remembers her children's names, besides Brendon.

"I'm not sure." It's solemn, his poor mother.

"Is she still busy with college?" Grace isn't frowning, she doesn't seem to understand how tremendously upsetting this whole situation is. "I told her she was going to work herself to death."

Brendon loses all his faith once more.

"Mom, Kara got her bachelor's degree twelve years ago." He fiddles with his belt loop, eyes shifting to the dirty carpet in her apartment as he tries pathetically to swallow the lump in his throat. "She has two kids. . . Two boys named Kevin and Parker."

Grace turns to face the TV again. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Grace continues to watch Cash Cab, she's perfectly fine forgetting her children's lives. She doesn't know what they're up to, and that doesn't seem so important to her.

Brendon decides it's best to leave now, opening the door.

"I'll see you soon." He walks out, making sure his actions were delicate.

Brendon walks down the hall, caregivers walking around with food and other necessities in hand.

Carina is busy helping her aunt, as always, and that's okay. Knowing Brendon, he'll tell her next weekend. He'll tell her that his mother thinks her thirty-six year old daughter was still a freshman in college, he'll tell her his mother completely forgot that Kara has two children, he'll tell her that his heart just keeps breaking the longer he spends time with Grace.

He wants to tell her now.

He can't, he's nearly to his car.

Brendon considers telling Josh but that's too much to lay on a person you've only known for a week.

Will the topic ever come to surface? He's not sure.

Brendon isn't comfortable opening up to people unless they've _made_ him comfortable, and that's not always such an easy thing to do.

Brendon's not sure if he'll ever become that close with Tyler and Josh.

He unlocks the car with a sigh, and sits down with a huff. It was still chilly outside and it's only going to get colder. It was scarf weather. Brendon, embarrassingly, had many. He puts the keys in the ignition, music suddenly blaring through the car.

He jumps, turning it down.

With another heavy sigh, Brendon buckles himself and pulls out of the parking space.

He's so thankful to be going home, if you could even call it that.

***

Brendon's shaking his head in distress, he decided to pick up more of his medication before going back to his apartment. He used the last of it when he came home from the retirement home the weekend before.

He seems to only smoke after visiting his mom.

It's whatever. He's on his couch again, coughing when he takes in too much.

And, while he sits there, Josh sends a picture of the coffee he's drinking.

  
**Can't** **get** **enough** **.**

**And** **I** **thought** **I** **liked** **coffee** **.** **The** **last** **week** **you've** **sent me at least fifteen different pictures that have coffee in them.**

Brendon chuckles, taking another drag, eyes closing. He holds in smoke until it's unbearable, leaning his head back and blowing it out.

He probably shouldn't be texting whilst being high.

**Hey, hey.** **Coffee** **is a big part of my life. I put it in my bio.** **You were** **warned** **.**

**Besides,** **Tyler** **makes coffee all the** **time** **. They make some every morning, and sometimes when** **they** **come home.**

Brendon wonders what it's like to be married, or even just have someone in general. Josh mentions the little things Tyler does for him a lot, Brendon is positive he doesn't even realize it, but isn't that what marriage is? The small things you do for one another? All the affection you show throughout the day with no words to express it?

No one makes coffee for Brendon.

Brendon makes coffee for himself.

**That's** **nice.**

**It is.** **We're** **coffee** **addicts** **, so what?** **That's** **the real reason we got married.**

Brendon has learned Josh has a rather humorous personality. It was very contradicting to Tyler's.

From what he's seen, Tyler had a rather serious tone. They seemed a lot more thoughtful when speaking, unlike Josh who could joke about his love for a beverage.

**I'm** **sure** **.**

**How long have** **you** **two been married,** **anyways** **?**

Brendon didn't want to seem nosey, he hoped he didn't.

He takes another hit, joint nearly a dab now.

**Almost** **three years. Our anniversary is in a few months.**

Brendon winces, mostly from smoking, but also because he feels. . . Awkward. He still cannot completely understand how casual the two of them are, their anniversary was coming up and yet they're trying to find a third person to celebrate it with.

The situation was just strange.

Never would he have seen himself begin to commit to anything so foreign, and yet, here he is.

Brendon is desperate, it's sad.

**Three?**

**Yeah. Time goes by so fast when** **you're** **with someone** **you** **love.**

That was cute, Brendon knows it is. Brendon knows his stomach feels upset but all he can do is ignore it. He feels like an obstacle although it was anything but that.

**How** **long have** **you** **two** **been** **together?**

Maybe Brendon was nosey, he has a right to be, though. Josh didn't mind, Josh encouraged it.

**Well,** **I** **met them when we both** **were** **in college. We were kind of an off and on thing,** **mostly** **because** **they** **were** **having** **a hard time trying to open** **up** **to me about who they really are.** **We** **would argue, and** **they'd** **cry** **,** **I** **just** **didn't** **understand what was** **happening** **.**

**Finally** **,** **they** **told** **me** **they** **were** **non-binary** **, and** **that** **kind** **of** **fixed all of our** **problems** **. Yeah,** **it** **took** **a while to understand** **but** **look** **where we are** **now** **.**

**Long story** **short** **,** **we've** **been together eleven** **years** **.**

Brendon swallows, putting his joint on the tray when it was now only a stub.

Eleven fucking years. Brendon had never even had a friend that long, let alone had a romantic interests that would last longer than a year.

His longest relationship was two months.

He's twenty-nine.

**Wow.**

**Wait** **,** **you** **didn't** **know** **Tyler** **was** **non-binary even** **when** **you** **were dating?**

Brendon can't imagine not being open about yourself with the person who you love the most. If anything, that would only make him feel worse than he did. The whole point of a relationship is acceptance and honesty, and then, they had neither.

That's horrible.

**Nope.** **They** **never told me** **anything** **. We dated for a** **solid** **month** **before it got** **really** **serious.**

**Their dysmorphia, that** **is** **.**

Brendon hadn't thought about Tyler's body dysmorphia. That surely was a thing. He wonders whether it's like his own-- he knows it's definitely not. Brendon was insecure about his body, but not because he felt as if he was in the wrong one, he just didn't like his frame.

Wait. . . But does Tyler even feel as though they're in the wrong body?

Brendon was only making assumptions. He needs to stop.

**After** **they finally** **told** **me,** **Tyler** **confessed how much it fucked them up because of how wrong** **everything** **felt. They** **couldn't** **stand** **that** **I** **was using the wrong pronouns** **without** **knowing** **.**

**I feel so bad** **now** **looking** **back on it.**

Brendon frowns. He feels hazy, barely being able to process everything because he felt so gone.

**I** **can't** **imagine.**

**It's** **good they finally told you.**

Brendon blinks a lot to try to concentrate on the keyboard, everything's fuzzy.

**I'm** **glad** **they** **did.** **Even** **though** **I** **had no fucking idea what non-binary even meant,** **they** **helped me get** **it** **.**

Suddenly Brendon feels less scared about the situation. One of the biggest factors to his anxiety was not understanding the whole ordeal, but even Tyler's husband didn't understand at first.

It's a full circle.

**Anyways** **, we're going to** **head** **to bed, goodnight. Text** **you** **tomorrow.**

Brendon doesn't know how he's going to bed right after drinking coffee. Josh was weird, but that wasn't such a bad thing.

**Goodnight** **, Josh.** **Make** **sure to tell** **Tyler** **goodnight** **too** **.**

Brendon doesn't know why he doesn't just text Tyler himself. He could tell them goodnight if he really wanted to, or have thorough conversations throughout the day with them like he did with Josh, but he doesn't, because he's scared.

He's intimadated.

**They said goodnight.**

Brendon smiles, his mouth is so dry. 

**Alright. Sleep well.**

Brendon turns his phone off, leaning further into the comfort of the sofa. It's swallowing him whole and his body tingles delightfully. 

He's completely forgotten about the incident that happened with his mom, for now, and he wished he could forget it forever. His mind is too cloudy, he thinks about Tyler and Josh and only Tyler and Josh. They'd been on his mind from day one, and the intensity of their presence only becomes more intense as the days pass on.

He forgets, but Tyler and Josh are helping him remember.

 


	7. Mental

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone wondering, I work primarily on Wattpad opposed to AO3. (I'm the odd one out, I know) so updates on here might be slower. I'm on chapter 40 on Wattpad, just in case you're interested!

In the break room, Brendon is sat eating another bagel-- plain, with strawberry cream cheese-- while Debby sits in front of him, again, blabbering like she's use to.

He doesn't know why she's suddenly taken interest in his life, she never has before. She would give him quick glances and casual smiles but that was just Debby. Now, if she wasn't sat with him, it felt a bit off, and Brendon didn't like it that way.

No matter how much Brendon felt like he needed someone, he didn't want it to be Debby, he's learned.

She's too loud for his anxiety, too nosey for his paranoia, and too selfish for his self-esteem.

That's never someone you want to be around.

At first, having Debby around was okay. It gave him a chance to talk to someone besides Carina-- although he never really spoke-- but after a week and a half, Brendon came to the conclusion that whatever she was doing for him wasn't for _him_ , but the exact opposite.

It was sick how she was using him for her own benefit.

He can't believe someone felt so pitiful for him they felt like they had to be his hero.

She was anything but.

Maybe Brendon thought about it too much. Maybe she really was trying to be helpful. Maybe she really did care about his well-being.

Then, he looks at her again, and it's obvious she doesn't.

She's putting on more lip gloss and adjusting her bra, talking on-and-on about how much work she's having to do lately, but _oh_ , luckily she's Debby and she can finish it like it's nothing. She doesn't ask how he's been doing as of late, or if _he_ might be struggling with work. Brendon's never had a friend in a work setting, but he'd imagine that's what it would be if so.

Brendon sighs, finishing his bagel.

He sits there for at least another three minutes; he can't believe someone can talk this much.

How is she breathing?

After that thought, his phone vibrates. Brendon feels like celebrating. He doesn't want to sit through this anymore.

Brendon slides his phone out carefully, knowing Debby would continue her one-sided conversation anyways. Even though it was obvious, now, that he wasn't paying attention.

Not that he was in the first place.

**I** **didn't** **get my coffee this morning.**

**Uh oh.** **That's** **not good.**

**I'm** **going to have to** **stop** **by** **Starbucks** **now,** **ugh** **.**

Brendon chuckles to himself. Josh really did need his coffee. 

**What's** **wrong** **with Starbucks?**

Brendon liked any kind of coffee, really. He wasn't picky. Starbucks had a comforting smell of cocoa and it made him feel warmed. He wasn't bothered, he liked it.

**Nothing** **. I just like complaining.**

Smiling, Brendon's thumbs move against the keyboard. He doesn't even think about his surroundings any longer, he just wanted to text Josh.

After a few moments of watching Brendon, Debby slowly goes quiet seeing him type away, quickly noticing he wasn't paying attention to her, even though she wouldn't do that to him.

"If you don't want to talk to me, you could say so, Brendon." It's bitter, she's bitter.

Brendon stops his actions, eyebrows furrowing together. What?

He sets his phone down, nerves biting at him like he does to his cheeks.

"I never said I didn't want to. . ." Brendon doesn't want to be in this situation. He's not sure if he could handle any anger thrown at him, especially from Debby. The tips of her ears are red, her jaw is clenched, she's so menacing. Brendon shrinks back into his seat.

"You've been on your phone." She states.

Brendon's eyes shift to said object, pursing his lips together.

"Someone texted me, I. . . Uhm, I didn't want to ignore it."

"Who? Just last week I was the only person you were talking to." Debby doesn't hold back, she never does. Brendon wonders if she knows that was hurtful.

He has people to talk to, like Carina. 

"Debby. . . You told me to put myself out there, and-and I did." Brendon frowns, pulling at the skin on his knuckles. "Please don't be mad, you're the one who pushed me to do this." He doesn't want to point fingers, but he really wouldn't have downloaded Tinder if Debby didn't come up to him that day.

"Okay, yeah, it's good that you're meeting people, that's what I want, but don't throw me aside." Brendon doesn't understand why she's acting like they're best friends.

"I'm not," he sighs.

"But you are." Debby pushes out her seat, nails painted a hot pink. The intensity in her hands makes Brendon tremble.

"No, no, Debby. . ." He's piteous, practically reaching out for her as she stomps away.

"No, Brendon." She says, not bothering to look at him as she continues marching out of the breakroom. "You're unbelievable."

He could say the same thing.

After Debby is out, Brendon can't help but notice all the other employee's eyes on him. They're wide, proclaiming, and all Brendon can do is shrink back even more.

He hates attention. He hates this. He hates that Debby had to make a scene, because she _knows_ he couldn't stand it. Did she do this to spite him? Was she really that hurt he was texting someone _she_ pushed him to meet, unententinally? Brendon didn't want to be here, he'd rather be at his mother's than go through this.

That was saying something.

They won't stop staring at him. What do they want?

Brendon's hands shake until they reach his hair, pulling at it. His eyes shift left, his eyes shift right.

_Fuck._

Brendon feels like he's in highschool again. His peers are too nosey, they're too demanding without even having to speak, they won't look away and he's losing breath with each stare.

His leg starts to bounce, he hasn't felt like this in a while and he doesn't want to feel like this.

Stupid Debby. Stupid, selfish, conceited Debby.

Everything about this is immature but Brendon can't help it, his chest is stinging the longer he tries to hold it in.

He wants to say something to the employees but he'll never have it in him to, especially right now. They're watching him crumble to pieces and he's letting it happen. What's he going to do about it, though? Nothing.

He never does anything.

Embarrassment hadn't been this bad in a while, he wanted it to stay that way.

But it won't.

He doesn't have to think about it, he grabs his phone, already stood to head to the bathroom.

He can't believe he's already crying. No wonder he doesn't make friends; he can't handle the emotions that come with it.

Just like Debby, Brendon stomps out of the room, trying to get to the restroom as fast as he could. People in the cubicles don't understand what's happening, yet they're watching anyways.

Brendon wants to be gone.

Why is everyone so invested in the situation?

Brendon's never felt more thankful that no one is in the bathroom, he pushes the door open and locks it in a frantic manner. It's so blank in the restroom, the floor is white and the walls are even whiter.

His sobs echo back at him, everything is so abrupt.

Maybe this was all his fault, maybe he shouldn't have treated Debby the way he did.

She had feelings too, her words weren't meaningless. If they were, she wouldn't be so successful.

Debby is on a throne above him. Who was he to treat her like she was supposed to be kissing his feet? If anything, it should be the opposite. Debby had her whole life together, she was hard working, and if she shut her mouth she could get anyone she wanted. Brendon could never. The amount of confidence needed to reach that level is something he knew he couldn't achieve no matter how much of a push he got.

His life is disappointing.

He's not going to be Debby, he needs to start kissing her feet.

Brendon tries to lower his solemn soul, it feels impossible.

By now he's slid down the wall and on the dirty floor. He couldn't care less, he needs to let it out before it builds up even more.

Holding it in never helped. Forcing to refrain his panic left him to be a mess, not being able to breathe, talk, or even move.

He lost all humanity trying to retain it.

Brendon's used to comforting himself in times of need, but right now all he could use is comfort from someone else. He surely won't get it from Debby, he's afraid of what will come after today. She's unpredictable, she's moody, she talks.

What is she going to say about him?

He considers talking to Carina, then it dawns on him he never got her phone number.

Oh, my god. How has he never gotten her phone number? That is his closest friend, the only person he's willing to open up to and he can't even speak to her on a daily basis.

Brendon can't believe himself.

Shaking his head, his foot taps nervously against the tiled floor.

He has no one if he isn't at his mom's. The only time he gets to see his best friend is when he's at the place that brings him down the most. He really needed to ask for it this weekend, he needed to text her.

So Brendon's alone, he has to do this alone.

He feels so unbelievably stupid crying on the bathroom floor of his work, his co-workers probably lost all respect for him the longer he sits in here. Debby will most likely say things that will interfere with the troubles happening in his head, and Brendon isn't ready for any of it.

He's hyperventilating, telling himself to do breathing techniques but he can't.

Brendon doesn't know whether this is well-deserved or not.

He doesn't respect himself, what is there to respect? If anything he deserves this all the time.

Brendon can't help but cry even harder, hands tense, thighs squishing together. He's thrown his glasses aside by now, they're covered in tears, just like his cheeks.

It feels like someone is pushing on his chest, it's forcing his heart beat to increase. He could hear it, that's how bad of a hysteria he was in. Brendon had panic attacks often, it wasn't that much of a surprise this happened, but although the frequency, he never would have thought it would come again this quickly. Life had been alright for a while, he was smiling, he was happy. He wasn't worrying about his mother or how much work he had to do, because everything felt okay.

Why did this have to ruin it?

Why can't he be happy?

Brendon's mind is cloudy when his phone vibrates again.

He almost doesn't have enough motivation to reach into his pocket and check it.

Then he remembers who it is, and he suddenly realizes he does have somebody to help him through this.

**I'm** **going to be here for** **ages** **. The line is so** **fucking** **long.**

Brendon throws his head back with a smile full of agony. He wants so many things, he wants comfort. He wants to be held right now, he wants to be talked to and told everything was going to be alright, he wants affection. He needs affection.

**Josh.**

Tear drops are landing on his phone screen.

**Yeah?**

Brendon is needy, he's not sure that will ever be a good thing. He needs help.

**Are you busy?**

**Not** **really** **,** **I'm** **going to** **have** **to** **wait** **here for a** **while** **. Why?**

Brendon swallows-- well, tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but he can't seem to manage. Maybe he was asking for too much, he just knew he'd do this for him if they switched places.

**Do** **you** **think i** **can** **call** **you** **.**

**I'm** **just** **freaking** **out and** **I** **want** **someone** **to talk to** **I'm** **sorry.**

All Brendon can hear is himself. That's the last thing he wants. It's sorrow falling right back into his being, he doesn't want to hear that. He wants to hear something else, anything else.

**Okay,** **yeah** **,** **of** **course.**

He's pushing hair out of his face, mouth in a permanent frown as his thumb grazes over the call button.

He only feels more nervous.

Maybe he shouldn't call him, it might just make everything worse.

He pulls his thumb away, no. He can't. He isn't ready.

Brendon doesn't have a choice, though, because Josh calls him instead. The picture he set for him pops up, it's staring at him. He can't ignore it.

He answers, chest caving in.

Brendon hesitantly brings the phone to his ear, trying to hide his gasps for breath. It isn't working very well, he already knows. He's waiting for Josh to talk first, he doesn't have it in him to be spontaneous right now.

"Brendon?"

He only cries more; sniffling, whimpering, he's so shamefaced.

"Yeah-yeah, it's-it's-it's me."

Brendon can hear the Starbucks setting through his phone, there's small laughs and bells ringing. 

"What's wrong?" Josh asks, his voice is like silk right now.

Brendon shakes his head, more to himself because Josh can't see. "It's fucking _stupid_!" He yells, sobbing. "I don't know wha-what to do. I didn't mean to-to-to hurt anyone's feel-ings. Everything was just-ju-just fine, I don't want this to happen." Josh doesn't understand what Brendon's going off about, he decides it's better for him to let it out instead if trying to push further.

"Hey, don't let your mind run so much, alright?" Josh seems like he's done this before, it's helpful. "Just try to focus on calming yourself down."

"Okay, okay." Brendon breathes, forearm against his forehead.

"Do you know anything that could help?"

"W-well I do have breathing exercises." Brendon closes his eyes, gasps and more gasps to leave his mouth.

"Try those."

"I already have--"

"Try them again."

Brendon's sick to his stomach but that's the last thing bothering him. He sits up from his slump on the wall, starting to breathe in.

He's muttering incoherently, Josh doesn't mind. He needs to do whatever he needs to do.

It gets louder though, and all he can hear across the line is a _one, two, three._ Breathe in. _One, two, three._ Brendon's breath wavers inbetween, his stomach is twisting and turning painfully.

"Josh. . ." He mumbles through his breathing.

"Yeah?" 

"Can-can you just talk to me." Brendon coughs, choking on air and self-pity.

"Of course. What do you want me to talk about?" Josh wonders, tone nearly as sweet as Carina's.

"Anything. I just need to hear you."

It's quiet, Brendon's afraid he said the wrong thing. He was too desperate and that most definitely came across when he spoke. He couldn't help it.

Brendon tries to ignore himself, continuing his exercises as the line stays quiet.

"Well," Josh starts, Brendon feels reassured. "When Tyler ever has an anxiety attack, or whatever may be, the one thing that always helps them calm down is when you sing to them. No matter how tone-deaf or off key you may be, it's like magic. I just hold them and I'll sing The Beatles, The Beatles is their favorite, and everything's okay."

Brendon's breathing got quieter so he could listen.

"I mean, yeah, it takes a little bit, but if you just sing to them, it makes it go away." Josh trails off. "I'm not sure what else to say."

Brendon smiles, tears sticky on his cheeks. He's not crying as much anymore.

"It's okay," he says, he wants to reassure Josh the way he's reassuring him. "Do you. . . Do you think you can sing to me?"

"Yeah. But really, I'm not the best at singing." He chuckles, Brendon does too.

"That's alright." He's blushing once more. It's fine, though. No one can see except himself.

Brendon leans his head on the wall, still sat in the corner of the bathroom. With his phone pressed to his ear, a song Brendon's heard one too many times reaches him, and it's okay. His breaths are still heavy but now there's some sort of lightness to them he can't explain. There's no more sobs echoing right back to him, there's only _In My Life_ by The Beatles making love to his head.

Yeah, Josh really wasn't a very good singer, but that didn't stop him from reaching his soul.


	8. Solicitude

Brendon isn't sure how he should feel when realizing he called in sick for work.

He wasn't sick. The only part of him catching a cold was his mind. Everything was so toxic. He couldn't go back to work the day after having a panic attack that bad. He hasn't had one so severe in months, and he's trying to remind himself that lying to his boss was for his own self-care, no matter how guilty and pathetic it made him feel.

So, he lays in bed.

He had woken up nearly an hour ago but hasn't moved.

His mind is running. He has so many things to think about but not enough brain capacity to do so.

Brendon tries to focus on the good, although there wasn't much to dwell about.

On the bright side of things, Debby wouldn't pester him anymore-- if she really was that upset with him. Although he is extremely faithful people are forgiving, he already knew Debby was not the same.

She was petty, everyone in the workplace knew this. Debby is perfection, and the only way she got to that point is by forcing things into place. If Brendon upset her, she was going to make sure he knew how plaintive he really was. She's no longer going to give him company during his lunch, and she wasn't going to be persistently ' _caring_ ', or whatever you wanted to call it.

But Brendon didn't need her, he never did.

The only reason he even stood around her was because he's too much of a coward to speak up.

He's too afraid to tell her he wasn't comfortable when she pushed him, he was too afraid to tell her their relationship wasn't very healthy.

You can only listen to someone talk about their success so many times before it starts eating you away.

Maybe that's why Brendon likes talking to Carina, or even Josh. They ask about his day, they care whether he was doing well or not.

Debby only cares for herself.

Brendon can't help the way his lips twitch when he thinks about Josh.

He sang to him until his order was ready, and carefully told Brendon he had to go, but call him any time he needed. That's what made Brendon's heart flutter; knowing he wasn't uncomfortable with the fact that their first time ever really speaking to each other was when Brendon was having a horrible panic attack.

Generally speaking, that would scare someone off, but Josh only felt more drawn in.

Brendon couldn't be more thankful for him right now. The only thing he can think about is how lucky he was to be able to have Josh to help him through his time of despair, because without him, that situation would have been so much worse.

He finally feels capable of getting out of bed.

He feels like a feather.

Brendon groans when sitting up, back aching, neck pleading, he stretches.

It's so dark in his room, he can't even tell what time it really is. There's no window, no singing birds, and no whistling trees.

He checks his phone, it's _10:09._ He's been laying in bed a lot longer than he thought, but that was alright.

Standing up, his hips are weak. He's just weak right now, gently walking out of his bedroom and into the rest of the apartment where the sun was actually shining through. The lighting does good to the mess of it, it doesn't look that bad but by the time it's evening, it's evident how destroyed his home is.

It matches with his emotional state.

Brendon isn't hungry, maybe just parched.

He checks his messages while grabbing water from the packet of bottles he had gotten a few weeks back.

**Goodmorning.**

**How are** **you** **feeling?**

Debby would never ask something so sincere, maybe that's why this isn't such a bad thing.

**I'm** **feeling better. A lot, actually.**

**Thank** **you** **for calling me yesterday.** **I'm** **sorry that it was so sudden,** **I** **just** **really needed to** **talk** **to** **someone** **.**

Brendon falls onto the couch, a heavy sigh laced with relief. He really needed to relax today, his body was so unbelievably drained from letting it all out like that. His sobs made every inch sore, from his legs to his shoulders.

He still can't hear the birds singing, so he closes his eyes and imagines it.

He's clad in a black hoodie and even darker sweatpants. The warmth was comforting, the sun made the gloomy colors bloom.

**I'm** **so glad.**

**And** **of course.** **I'm** **always** **here** **if you need me, so is** **Tyler** **.**

Brendon purses his lips. _Still_ , he hasn't had a decent conversation with them.

Brendon is intimidated by Tyler, it's no secret.

He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it. Maybe he wasn't intimated by them themselves, but everything they had to offer. Although that may sound inconsiderate or downright awful, Brendon was weary of new things that parlous. Any slip ups around them and that could affect Tyler tremendously.

He never would want that.

Someone who is married with Josh has to be just as considerate as him. 

Brendon is probably over-analyzing everything. Tyler is Tyler, he had to accept that one way or anything.

**Yeah, thank** **you** **, that means a lot to me.**

**Of** **course** **.**

**Hey, Brendon, mind if** **I** **ask** **you** **something** **?**

Brendon feels himself going hot.

What does that mean? What was he going to ask? Did he do something wrong? Was he going to ask how he feels about Tyler?

**What is it?**

Brendon bites his lip, scratching at his fingers.

He worries too much, he knows this. It probably isn't anything to be stressing about, his stomach is probably churning for no reason. He can't help it, though. He's not sure if he's ready to open up to Josh about how terrified he is to mess up around Tyler. That's his husband, wouldn't he take offense to that?

Brendon should keep it to himself.

**Tyler and** **I** **have been** **talking** **about** **it** **,** **and** **we** **were** **wondering** **if** **you** **wanted to meet** **up** **soon** **?**

Brendon is burning, now.

Oh, oh, oh. He wasn't expecting that at all. He hadn't even thought about meeting them in person, because just texting them was already overwhelming enough.

Was he ready to push himself even further?

Was he ready to prove to himself that he can truly put himself out there?

Brendon didn't know.

Texting has been hard enough for him, he didn't want to come off this way or that way, and it was hard to tell the tone of one another. Being face to face is a whole other story, there's always a chance of being browbeaten and one word can ruin everything. You can see every emotion by the glint in their eyes. 

It's obscure.

He has to remind himself that this is the next step in their relationship, and he'll do it whether he's ready or not.

**Okay, yeah.**

**When?**

Brendon swallows saliva, heartbeat roaring. 

**Whenever** **you want.** **I'm** **usually free, and** **Tyler** **can make it work.**

He's glad it's up to him, because he needs time to decide when he'll be ready enough to face everything he's been dreading.

**I'm** **busy on the** **weekends** **, so** **maybe** **sometime** **during** **the** **week, if** **that's** **alright.**

Brendon still hasn't mentioned anything about his mother, he's not sure when he can. There's not exactly ever a good time to tell someone you're interested in that your mother has a horrible case of dementia, and you're her babysitter every weekend.

The time will come, he just doesn't know when.

**Week days are fine.**

**What day? You name it.**

Not Saturday, and definitely not Sunday. On Sundays, he's a walking zombie, and smells like cinnamon spice. He's usually upset, nearly on the verge of tears. He couldn't meet Tyler and Josh like that.

That's embarrassing, piteous.

Mondays are a no, there's no thought about that.

He has to leave to his mother's on Fridays quite often, but maybe he could hold off this week. One day wouldn't change anything. He needs to do something for himself for once, anyways.

**Friday** **?**

**I'll** **talk** **to** **Tyler** **, but** **I'm** **sure** **that** **would** **be** **perfect** **.**

**Awesome** **.**

Is it awesome? Brendon hopes so. 

He doesn't know the first thing about the meeting a love interest online, he wonders whether this is abrupt. He's only known Josh and Tyler for about two weeks, is it normal to be meeting them so soon? Especially when he barely knows a thing about Tyler.

Who's Brendon to say what's wrong and what's right, he trusts Josh and Tyler's judgment.

If they're ready to meet him, they're ready to meet him.

And Brendon should be ready too.

He takes another sip from his water bottle, it's almost gone by now.

**They said** **Friday** **sounds great. So we're** **on** **.**

Brendon gets chills from that infromation. It all was happening faster than he could blink, but he's not sure that's such a bad thing. He needed a push, a push from himself, not from the world, not from fake friends. He needed this, he needed to open himself up for the world to see, whether he's trembling in fear or wrestling with panic, and Josh and Tyler are the ones guiding him through it all, without even noticing.

Everything was falling into place.


	9. Intimidation

Brendon sits in his cubicle once more. As far as he could tell, he was overreacting about the situation completely. As far as he could tell, no one was talking about him or glancing his way. As far as he could tell, everything is fine.

He's so thankful.

He's in a good mood, there's maybe even a smile on his face as he finishes a days amount of work he missed.

Brendon hasn't seen Debby yet, he's been here for a few hours now.

He knows he'll most definitely see her in the break room, and he's dreading it. He wasn't sure how far Debby will take this, he's hoping she can look past his faults and forgive him.

But is he really the one to apologize?

Brendon's not sure. He never is.

He tries not to think about it. The whole floor is filled with fingers on keyboards as usual, he's glad to be back no matter how much he hated it here. Yes, he enjoyed having time for himself, but you can only do nothing for so long before it becomes tiring. Having something to do helped him stay in check, and he needs it no matter how much he says he doesn't.

Everyone needs a routine.

Brendon's routine has been changing recently, though.

The days were still dreadful, that definitely hadn't changed, but he finally had something that helped him push through.

Josh sending him pictures of his coffee and talking about the little things Tyler did brought his spirits up and helped him remember there is good things in life even if he couldn't see it.

Josh was all around a kind spirit, Brendon has come to learn. He gained a lot more respect for him after the phone call the two of them had the other day. That medolic tone and free mentality settled easily, he helped Brendon a lot and he couldn't appreciate him more.

Though, even with all the good, Brendon's terrified.

Maybe it's selfish, he didn't know.

"Hey, Brendon." Someone clears their throat behind him.

He turns in his chair with raised brows. "Oh, hey, Lukas." His lips twitch. He's bad at conversing.

Lukas smiles just as awkwardly. They're awkward. He's holding a mug with steam coming from the inside, Brendon would kill for some coffee right now.

"Um, I was just wondering if you wanted to eat at break with me." He shrugs.

The two of them are staring at each other while Brendon tries to muster up enough voice to reply. He wonders whether or not he's only asking because Debby's been talking. Has she been talking? Brendon still didn't know.

"O-okay, yeah." He nods, looking at his watch. "Oh, wow, I should have been in there ten minutes ago."

Brendon stands, a pang in his chest.

Lukas smiles even bigger, cocking his neck to the side as a question.

Brendon nods again.

They walk side by side, Lukas sipping his coffee while Brendon stares at his feet. Why have people taken an interest in him all of a sudden?

Other employees look up from their computers and watch the two make their way to the break room. Whispering, glaring, judging. Either Brendon was too caught up in his own head or Debby really was running her damn mouth all around the office.

Great.

Exactly what he needed, right?

It wasn't as though he didn't have enough things to worry about.

Brendon sighs, him and Lukas now in the break room.

There's other coworkers in here as usual, giggling and smiling together, _as usual_. Brendon never smiles when he's in this room; it's lonesome. Even when Debby sat with him, he was lonesome. He guessed that just because you have someone there doesn't mean you're not able to be alone.

He definitely was.

By the time the two of them are settled at one of the small tables, Lukas has Cup 'O Noodles heated and Brendon grabs his salad from the refrigerator.

What does it take for him to have enough courage to start a conversation?

Lukas doesn't seem like he is going to, and god forbid they sit in silence chewing their food until they go back to work.

"So, um," Brendon stabs at another cherry tomato. "Why did you want to sit with me?"

Lukas shrugs, eating a mouthful of noodles.

That's not enough.

Brendon bites down on his lip, scratching his wrist. "Did. . . Did Debby say something to you?"

That got a reaction, Lukas stops leaning into his food and licks his lips. His brows furrow. "Debby? I mean, no, she doesn't talk to me. No one does, really. I'm new." He shakes his head to himself. "What would she have said, anyways?"

Brendon frowns.

"Well," he sighs. "Nevermind. It's not important."

"You can tell me. Seeing how you were the day before yesterday, it's probably best if you talk about it." Lukas says, noodles almost gone.

"You saw that?" Brendon's frown hurts.

"I think everyone saw that." He replies, honestly.

That's embarrasing.

Of course he knew people saw, he was in tears practically running across the cubicles to get to the bathroom. There was nothing subtle about that, he just didn't think many people saw him at his all time low.

"People have their days. It's okay." Lukas says, eyes warm enough. "What about Debby now?"

Brendon exhales. "We became friends, and she convinced me to download Tinder because I seemed lonely. I don't know, but I did." He doesn't open up to people, especially this soon. He's not sure he can stomach anymore food because of how much it's turning so he pushes his salad away. "And I mean, I've been talking to someone who's really nice, and Debby got upset the other day and said I wasn't paying attention to her, because I wasn't. I was texting."

Clearing his throat, he says, "She hasn't talked to me since."

He kept his voice down so the other employees couldn't hear, he didn't want them to tell Debby he was talking about her.

Where even was Debby anyways?

Lukas rolls his eyes. "She over-exaggerated a bit, don't you think?"

Brendon swallows. "I. . . Do you think so?"

"I mean. . . She _made_ you download an app for dating, and got mad, because you're trying to date. . ." He says in a quizzical tone.

Another shrug.

"Whatever, that just seems stupid." Lukas is blatant, kind of like Josh. It's comforting in an odd way, because it takes a special person to use honesty as a positive and not a negative.

"I wasn't paying attention to her. I think that would hurt my feelings, too." Brendon doesn't want to be selfish, the fault should land on him.

"From what I've seen, Debby is pretty fucking conceited. She likes attention and since you didn't give it to her she had a fit. It's not your fault, alright?" He keeps quiet, getting the gist. Brendon seemed rather introverted, Luke is sure the last thing he wants is for people to know he has shit to say.

Brendon doesn't know what to believe.

"Um, alright, maybe."

"Not maybe."

He exhales. "I should get back to work. I have a lot to do."

Brendon stands, throwing the rest of his salad away. He feels bad for wasting it but his stomach is aching.

"Don't beat yourself up too much. I think you're nice." Lukas mumbles.

Brendon purses his lips and smiles, nodding shakily. "You're nice too, Lukas, thanks." He says while making his way out of the break room.

"You can call me Luke. Lukas sounds too formal."

Brendon chuckles. "Okay."

***

Brendon didn't see Debby all day. Was she really avoiding him that much?

He didn't see any of the Ryan's, really. He wonders whether or not they're all avoiding him, because that would only make sense. The three of them were stuck together like glue, it wouldn't be a surprise if Debby told them what happened, or even exaggerated the story so they would take her side.

Not that they would ever take Brendon's.

It didn't matter, he reminds himself as he watches his clothes spin in circles at the laundromat.

He's been meaning to wash his clothes for a long time now, if he's not wearing his normal attire for work then he was wearing a hoodie and sweats he hadn't washed in weeks.

It was gross, he's gross.

That leads him to think about Friday. It's so soon.

Is he ready to expose himself for two people who would like to say their common interest is him?

He still wasn't sure where they're meeting or what time, he needs to call Josh.

The two of them called yesterday, and Josh talked about another photshoot he was doing for a family, and how much fun he was having with it. The couple had a few little ones who liked Josh's tattoos and it made him happy. Brendon wants to see his tattoos in person, he bets they're a lot nicer that way.

Brendon has always wanted a tattoo but has never had the guts to go out and do it.

What would he get anyways? 

Brendon sighs, looking away from his laundry and down at his phone.

Talking to Josh has been nice, Brendon was just trying to get used to his voice before Friday arrives.

He's careful when blinking, time flies by so fast.

His Adams apple bobs as he presses on Josh's contact. He never said he was going to call, but Josh did tell him he can call whenever he'd like, so he presses the call button.

It's ringing, and ringing. 

Brendon hopes he isn't calling at the wrong time.

As always, he second guesses himself. Who is he to decide now is the time to ask questions? They can do that later, Josh is a busy man and he probably has more to do than talk to Brendon. He has a husband, he has a job, he has priorities. Brendon only has one of those three, he feels pathetic.

He is pathetic.

Josh doesn't answer the phone, Brendon clears his throat. It's okay.

The owner of the laundromat is beside him helping someone out, it's their first time here. Brendon, though, has been here a lot throughout the years. There's a pug who sits at the counter all day named Boots, even though only one of her feet was a different color. Even then, it looked more like a sock than a boot, but the name Socks doesn't work as well, does it.

She's a cutie, Brendon can't deny. She has a tongue so long that it can't fit in her mouth and she snorts when she wakes up from naps.

Brendon looks over at her, and she's looking back at him.

He smiles.

Just as he's about to sit up to pet her, his phone rings. It's Josh.

Brendon sighs in relief and answers.

"Uh, hey."

Josh breathes. "Hey, hey, sorry." Brendon shakes his head, he should be apologizing, not Josh. "What's up?" 

"Oh, um, I was just thinking about Friday. Uh, you never said where or when we're meeting." Boots is staring at Brendon, maybe she's picking up on his nerves.

It's pretty easy to.

" _Oh_!" Josh exclaims. "Babe, we should go to Roscoe's." He's talking to Tyler.

Brendon's never been to Roscoe's. He can hear Tyler and Josh talking back and forth trying to agree on a place to meet.

"Yeah, is Roscoe's alright?"

"I've never been. . ."

"It's a coffee shop, a local one."

It's never a bad time for coffee. "Coffee sounds great." Coffee always sounds great, what is he saying? He's glad Josh likes coffee as much as he does, hopefully Tyler does too, he's not so sure.

"Awesome." Josh says. "Does noon work?"

"Noon is good." Josh could say anything and Brendon would say it's great. Because it is, isn't it? He's going to meet _two_ people who _want_ to meet him. They're not meeting him for their own needs-- that he knows of-- they're meeting him because they think Brendon could be the person they're looking for.

And just knowing that alone makes his heart swell.

"Cool." Josh sounds happy. "One second."

There's some rustling on the line, and before Brendon can ask anymore questions someone else speaks over him.

"Hey." It's Tyler.

Brendon's palms start to sweat, he bites his lip. "H-hi, Tyler."

"See you on Friday then, hmm?" They say, voice so monotone it makes Brendon's spine shiver. He shouldn't be this scared but he is. He shouldn't be scared at all, really.

He's so rude.

He chuckles nervously. "Yeah." His laundry stops turning, finally. It's time to go home now. "Um, hey, I gotta go. I'll see you guys on Friday."

"Alright. Bye, Brendon." And then another "Bye!" From Josh. 

He nods. "Bye."

The call ends and by then his stomach is doing horrible things.

Brendon is pulling his laundry out and into the basket, he feels so hot even though it's freezing outside. If he's that nervous just hearing Tyler's voice how is he possibly going to get through Friday, where their eyes are going to be on him and he can see every move they make.

_Fuck_ , is all he can think.

What would Josh think if he could hear Brendon's thoughts?

So terrified of his own husband solely because of personal issues.

Brendon sighs, lifting the basket. He tries to stop thinking about it, deciding not to stress until the day of.

It's right around the corner.

 


	10. Confrontation

Thursday was just like the day before. Brendon didn't see Debby, again, and although that might sound relieving, it was only making him even more anxious. Was she planning something? _What if she wasn't even at work._

As usual, he tries not to think about it. He's too paranoid for his own good though; he thanks Debby for making it worse.

Today, he eats lunch with Luke, this time they have a steady enough conversation.

Lukas talks more than Brendon but that's just expected. Brendon has never been the kind to keep a conversation going, all he was good for was observation and terse nods.

And that's okay, he tries to tell himself.

Not everyone is made out to be ready for the world.

***

Brendon didn't get much sleep last night. His mind was running faster than he's ever ran physically.

He thinks too much, and that's definitely a downside to having such an independent thought process but Brendon had no control over himself and he never has. Tyler and Josh took over his mind and became the emperors. Ever since he met them on Tinder a couple of weeks ago, they had been.

Brendon has never been too fond of being romantically interested in people in fear of their kept thoughts of him.

He's hoping to overcome this fear today.

With that in mind, he sighs, sitting up in bed.

He still has that almost empty bottle of beer on his bedside table from when he and Josh first started talking. It wasn't only that, but his whole apartment was just a mess. It doesn't change, and when it does, it's for the worst.

"Gross ass," Brendon mutters to himself.

He grabs the bottle as he stands, body aching.

He considers cleaning soon, if things go well with Tyler and Josh they might even come to visit.

Knowing that is terrifying on its own. The only people who have been inside his home are his siblings and nephews. It's not often either, it's only when they want something for their own benefit that they seek out in Brendon.

His family was just a disaster.

He pours the rest of the beer down the drain and sets the bottle onto the counter like all the others.

It was then when he looks at the time on the oven, it was already almost eleven. He still needed to shower, and choose what was most appropriate to wear for the occasion.

Brendon's almost in a panic, but he trusts himself enough to get these things done before it's too late.

***

His shower was warm and his clothes were even warmer. He stares at himself in the mirror and flips his hair over and over again until he was tired of it. 

It was well over eleven now, he needed to leave.

The apartment is still a mess and so is he, but he's ready anyways.

He grabs his keys from the counter, chest feeling heavy. He leaves with anxiety caving in on him, but there was nothing he can do about that.

***

Brendon sits in his car longer than he should. He can't help it.

He didn't want to admit to himself before arriving that he'd be this much of a mess but the certainty lingered in the back of his mind, and now it's proven.

He's leaning against his steering wheel, chest caving in faster as the seconds passed. Brendon wants to keep it under control, he always does, but right now if feels almost impossible. The last thing he wanted today was to let nerves get the best of him.

The car is silent, empty. It's quickly being filled with terse gasps and shallow breathing. Brendon hates it, it's like his insecurities are bouncing right back at him by how small the space was.

Sitting up straight, he's going to push himself. He needs to.

"In three," he says, he realizes he talks to himself a lot.

He inhales to the best of his ability, closing his mouth and holding his breath for three seconds before exhaling.

He does this again, and again, until he's done it enough for his breathing to come close to regulating.

Josh should already be here. He shouldn't keep him waiting.

Brendon pushes the car door open and shakily steps out, shoving his keys into his front pocket.

The coffee shop isn't anything special. It isn't Starbucks, it's a local shop that most know because of the name. It's like a signature where they live, Brendon learned. The food is usually better than the drinks-- especially coffee-- and yet Josh and Tyler talk so highly about it.

Brendon doesn't get it.

He's not sure he will.

He slowly makes his way into the joint, the strong smell of coffee beans are making his nose burn.

Brendon is certain he saw Josh in the window before coming in. He stands at the entrance like an idiot, only trying to prepare himself the most he can before sitting down. What if he says the wrong thing? What if they don't like him in person? What if he makes bad jokes or sounds like a total loser? Brendon remembers why he has such a hard time meeting people now, his knees are going to buckle if he doesn't sit down soon.

"Brendon?"

He looks that direction. Josh, yes, it's Josh.

His lips twitch into a neurotic smile, he's not ready.

Josh smiles back, a lot wider and a lot less anxious than Brendon. The only thing he can do is walk over there, and so he does.

He slips into the seat in front of him, fiddling with his fingers underneath the table instantaneously.

"Hey," Brendon mutters, Josh's eyes are just as bright as they are in the pictures. Brendon can hear his heart beat, but the movement and pace is even more erotic. He's hoping coffee, or anything really, will calm him down. He already feels panic settling in his stomach.

"Hey." Josh's eyes squint, he looks so happy.

Brendon swallows, gulps, and runs his hand through his hair, looking around so he didn't have to look at the trigger.

Josh already is catching onto his uneasiness fast.

"Are you okay?" He asks, pulling Brendon's attention right to him again. His eyebrows are furrowed together in a worrisome manner, he genuinely looks sympathetic without knowing the cause.

"Yeah. Yeah. I-I-I just," Brendon sighs, lifting his hand from under the table and tapping on the wood. "I just get nervous really easily, I'm sorry. New things scare the shit out of me." He frowns a tad while speaking.

Josh nods, he seems to process it faster than Brendon does.

"I can't tell you not to worry, but just know you're going to be alright." He says easily, he's so calm.

Brendon nods his head like Josh, staring outside and watching the cars pass by.

"Besides, what's scaring you, anyways?"

Brendon bites his lip at the question. Here it is. Saying one thing could ruin this whole day, ruin this whole relationship built from texts and pictures and phone calls. His hands get clammy like they always do, his breathing begins to labor once more.

"I don't. . . I don't wanna say the wrong thing--"

"You won't. Just tell me, it's okay."

Brendon looks into his eyes. They're so warm, so welcoming. He's thankful Josh is so considerate with his horrid emotions.

"I, I'm so worried I'm going to mess something up." He begins, resting his elbows on the table and keeps his eye contact with Josh. "And this is just so new for me, not even the three-people thing, relationships in general. I haven't been on an actual date in a while, let alone been with someone officially."

Brendon shakes his head, looking outside again.

"Please don't think it's because of you, it's not. But since I haven't even been with _one_ person in forever, being with two is terrifying."

Josh tilts his head, Brendon turns to look at him.

"I get why you're scared. It is a scary thing, I'm not going to say it's not." Brendon enjoys how peacefully blatant he tends to be. That's definitely one of his strong suits. "The difference between us and you and everyone else is that we understand. We've been there. We're not going to persecute you or treat you like you _are_ the third person, because none of us are."

Brendon bites his lip.

"We only want you to feel welcomed, not scared." Josh says. His tone of voice is so soothing.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're pretty damn good at helping someone feel better?" He chuckles delicately, so does Josh.

He shrugs. "A few times."

Brendon decides to hold back on telling Josh that he's especially anxious to mess up around Tyler. He doesn't want to slip, everything is just so new to him.

Suddenly the bell above the door chimes again and Josh is grinning ear to ear, looking that direction.

They must be here.

Brendon sits up straighter, clearing his throat and shifting his eyes. His heart beat is so loud, deafening almost. He tries to think about what Josh said. _We only want you to feel welcomed, not scared. We only want you to feel welcomed, not scared. We only want you to feel welcomed, not--_

"Hey, babe." Josh stands up, hugging Tyler once they've walked over and kissing their cheek.

Brendon notices how strange their attire was, definitely different than casual every day clothes, but not in a bad way. They look great, black turtle neck, khaki colored pants and black boots. He also notices how Tyler's taller than Josh, not drastically or anything but it's still extremely off-putting.

"Sorry it took so long, the traffic today was insane." They roll their eyes, pulling away from the embrace and turning to sit down. "Hi." They say once seeing Brendon sat.

"Hi." He purses his lip into a grin.

Josh is about to sit back down until his name is called, he sighs. "I'll be right back."

The two watch him walk over to the counter, and all Brendon can think about is how much he wants to say something else to Tyler because a hello isn't enough, but his throat feels strained; he feels incapable.

Josh picks up drinks and mutters something to the employee before he was back at the booth.

"I got you your favorite." Josh says, handing Tyler their drink.

They smirk once it's in their hands. "Thanks."

Josh sits back down, taking a sip of his coffee and looking across the table at Brendon. "Do you want anything? I'll pay."

Brendon is biting the inside of his cheek. He already feels like he's left out and it hasn't even started, really. He tries not to think about it too much, knowing Josh and Tyler weren't making him feel this way purposefully. He reminds himself that if he really wants to do this he needs to start getting used to the dynamic and not shying away from it.

"I'm not sure I'm going to be able to stomach anything right now, but thank you."

Brendon looks at their ring fingers while the two of them drink, seeing silver bands adoring their skin.

"C'mon. . ." Josh shakes his shoulders, face suggestive and playful.

"Well, maybe just a grande black coffee." Brendon says.

"That's more like it. One second." He stands, walking into the small line that formed.

Tyler sets their drink down, their features are a lot less bright compared to Josh. They have hooded eyes, puffy cheeks, and a pouted lip. "I'm really glad you decided to meet with us."

"I am, too."

"Josh always tells me how nice you are, and I can tell whenever he shows me texts or even when I've been messaging you myself. You're different than anyone else we've met, you're actually open to new ideas." Tyler explains, it's kind of like they're thinking out loud. "You know, people always say how open they are to new things, but when it finally comes down to it they're closed-minded pricks. People are scared of things they don't understand and they aren't willing to push themselves _to_ understand. You're different. I appreciate that."

Brendon feels more comfortable now that Tyler's spoken openly.

His heart beat begins to regulate and his hands aren't sweating as much anymore.

Josh and Tyler really are welcoming.

"It-it scares me but I'm willing to push myself. Sometimes the best things come out of doing that." Brendon shrugs, Josh sits back down.

"It'll be done in a few." He breathes. "What were you two talking about?"

"I was just telling him that I'm glad he's here. We don't see people like him very often." Tyler drinks from a straw, it's definitely not coffee, Brendon isn't too sure what it is, really. He's waiting for his coffee so it wasn't too awkward.

Josh nods, agreeing with what his husband said.

"Wanna know something about Tyler?" Brendon says yes, he wants to know more about the both of them. Tyler, on the other hand, squints their eyes, not sure where this was going. "They're really quiet when they want to be but if something comes to mind they can just go on-and-on. It's really cute, and kinda comforting too. They're so intelligent. I think that has something to do with being a script coordinator."

Brendon lips turn upwards at the information. He could already tell. "You're a script coordinator?"

They lift their shoulders. "Yeah. Usually for commercials and stuff, nothing too big."

"That's still really cool."

Tyler agrees, suddenly turning around to face Josh, upset because he said their ranting is cute. They're playfully irritated that their husband praised them, Brendon smiles when watching the couple go back and forth. Tyler's cheeks are a subtle pink, Josh continues to play with them.

Tyler sighs, and rolls their eyes. "What do you do?"

Brendon isn't interesting. He doesn't want to talk about himself. "I work in an office setting."

"Do you have to wear slacks and stuff?"

"Uh, yeah."

Josh laughs in a small manner as he drinks his coffee, eyes glued to Tyler.

"They're really nosey about fashion in different work settings." He says once pulling his cup away. "Well, just nosey about fashion in general."

"It's interesting." Tyler mutters.

Brendon assumes it's a hobby, maybe that's why their outfit isn't something he'd see everyday.

"It's a hobby of theirs." Josh states, almost like he knew what Brendon was wanting to ask. "You should see our closet, Jesus fucking Christ. It's not even _ours_ , really, it's just theirs with a few of my pants and t-shirts." He's very animated when he talks, Brendon watches every motion.

He smiles.

"Josh!" An employee calls out. Finally, Brendon will get his coffee.

"That's yours." He says to Brendon whilst getting up.

Tyler looks over to Brendon once Josh walks away, they tilt their head to the side. "You're really nervous, aren't you?"

Why does it feel like they interrogate him every time Josh leaves.

"Yeah. I'm just not very good with, uh, with social situations." Brendon purses his lips and stares at his hands, his stomach aches knowing Tyler is focused on him. They wreak of intimidation.

"I wasn't very good, either, for a long time." They try. Brendon wants to tell them it's been this way his whole twenty-nine years of living and nothing has changed. He still trembled at the thought of confrontation, and being here with them and Josh is exciting, but absolutely destroying him at the same time. "I know it's hard but just open up, you can trust us, I promise. And if you're scared, don't think about it, just keep going. You shouldn't let things hold you back from succeeding."

Brendon has quickly caught on to how much Josh and Tyler want this to work out; they both have been trying to console Brendon so they can have a good time today.

Maybe that's what he needs.

To be consoled until he finally makes it. To what? He doesn't know yet.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Brendon nods to himself.

Josh comes back with Brendon's coffee, and smiles are passed between them.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He sits back down, coffee in one hand and Tyler's in the other.

It's going to take some time getting used to, but everything does. Brendon has no idea where their relationship could possibly be heading, and for once, he's not so paranoid about it. He has a good feeling, something he doesn't get very often. He watches the way Tyler and Josh look at one another and then how they look at him, they're just glowing. At that point, his clammy hands and upset stomach couldn't bother him as much as they had, what mattered was getting to know these two people who were making his life just a little bit brighter each time they spoke.

Brendon felt okay with whatever they were going to throw at him next, because they're somehow gaining his trust faster than he can trust himself.


	11. Empirical

Brendon had barely been able to drink the coffee Josh bought for him. If it was any other time, the coffee would have nearly been finished by now but at the moment he could only take small sips.

He found it hard to stomach anything when both Josh and Tyler never took their eyes off him.

Brendon knew eye contact was important when it comes to making a connection, but the only connection Brendon has ever had was with anxiety, so this was new for him.

Everything is new for him.

He keeps accidentally touching Tyler's foot underneath the table because of how much he's bouncing, and each time they subtly tilt their head. Brendon bites his lip, he can't imagine how Tyler might be taking this, and in reality, he doesn't want to.

So he doesn't, and instead he focuses on Josh.

Josh talks; he talks a lot, and it's sweet.

He's been running his mouth the majority of the hour and Brendon hasn't had a reason to be upset about it, he's not sure he can after he helped him the other day during his breakdown. Josh's voice is what rescued him that day, and to be irritated by it now was seemingly impossible.

He spoke like he was writing scarlet letters and the small lisp that followed made Brendon smile.

Brendon could already tell Tyler felt the same way just by the pure adoration on their face each time they looked his way.

"Josh," they say, interrupting him.

Brendon wasn't exactly paying attention to what Josh has been saying, he was too focused on keeping himself steady.

Josh looks to Tyler, eyebrows furrowed.

"I have to head back to work."

Brendon didn't know they came from work. He frowns.

Did they really spend this whole time meeting him instead of getting work done?

He feels bad.

Josh nods, sliding out of the booth when Tyler nudges him. All Brendon can think about is whether or not Josh had work as well, and if they had both wasted their day with him.

The two of them stand. Still, Brendon is surprised that Tyler is taller than Josh.

He doesn't know why he expected them to be shorter, but seeing them beside Josh, it seems odd. He wraps his arms around their waist and pulls them close so he can tuck his head in the crook of their neck and wish them goodbye.

Brendon glances, his Adam's apple bobbing.

If their relationship continues he can't be so nervous when Tyler and Josh are affectionate, they have all the right to be; they're married, Brendon needs to remember this isn't an every day relationship they're trying to start, it's alternative.

Tyler kisses Josh's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too." He says. They pull away from one another.

Tyler looks to the side. "Bye, Brendon. It was nice to finally meet you in person."

He nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah, definitely." He mutters, pursing his lips into an awkward smile afterwards.

Tyler kisses Josh one more time before leaving, waving Brendon goodbye.

Josh doesn't sit down until he watches Tyler leave and get into the car safely. "So," he starts once it's only he and Brendon. "What's _really_ making you nervous." He doesn't seem upset or stern even, just curious.

He wants to know the truth.

"I told you. . ."

"You told me. Yeah. I just have a feeling there's more to it." Josh is reading Brendon better than he can read himself.

Brendon doesn't say anything.

How could he tell Josh what's eating away at him? They just met.

Besides, he's not sure it's ever a good time to tell someone their husband makes him overwrought.

"Brendon, I know this is our first time meeting in person, and maybe I'm asking for too much, but all I want is honesty." Josh is caramel and Brendon's dark chocolate.

Maybe honesty isn't the problem. Maybe it's conversing in general.

Brendon's never been good at that.

"Josh, I-I don't wanna sound rude."

"Fuck sounding rude, telling me how you feel is more important." He shrugs.

Brendon is biting the inside of his mouth. This is what he was worrying about the most and he told Josh this; he didn't want to say something to ruin whatever they had built these few weeks. He had the decision to tell Josh his nerves surrounding Tyler and possibly hurt his feelings, or lie.

Brendon doesn't lie to people he cares for, though.

He takes a deep breath in, nodding to himself.

Josh will understand, right?

"I'm just really scared of messing up with Tyler."

Josh doesn't say anything, he's waiting for Brendon to explain.

Brendon sighs. "It's-it's not that I don't accept them, _no_ , no, I just don't know if I understand everything and I don't want to fuck up. The last thing I want to do is hurt their feelings, or-or yours."

If it was somehow possible, Josh's face softens even more.

"That's what you were scared to tell me?"

Brendon frowns again, he does that a lot.

"Hey. It's okay, alright?" Josh moves his hand closer to Brendon's but doesn't push it any further. This is a start, not a shove. "Don't you realize I went through the same thing? If you have questions about anything, you can ask them; they're very open about it and don't get upset easily if you don't understand everything." He takes another sip from his coffee. "You can ask me even, I've learned a lot being with them."

Brendon forgets Josh didn't know anything either when he and Tyler first got together.

"I know. . . And thank you, it means a lot." He squeezes his thighs together.

They sit with silence longer than he'd like.

Josh clears his throat.

"Well, do you want to ask me anything?"

Of course Brendon wants to ask him something. He has so many questions and a very limited thought process for them. But is it right to spill them all out to Josh?

"I don't know. . ."

"Maybe start off with something less personal. They should help you with stuff like that, not me." Josh sounds certain Tyler will open up to Brendon, and maybe they will in the long run, so when? Tyler didn't seem like the type of person to let just anyone in, and maybe Brendon shouldn't come to a conclusion that fast, but that's all he seems to do when it comes to them.

"I, I guess. . . Do a lot of people understand? Like their friends and family?" It must be difficult to know someone for so long as a completely different person than who they really are.

Do their parents use the right pronouns? Or their siblings?

Does Tyler even have siblings?

Brendon knows nothing, and it's his fault too.

"Tyler and I have the same friends, and the majority of them live over by the coast so it's not often we get to see them." Josh starts, he leans back and pulls his hand away from Brendon's. "They try to the best of their ability to get it, I mean, they've known us for so long. Whenever all of us hangout they've just gotta not make it a big deal, because it's really not." He lifts his shoulders once again.

Josh is right; it cuts deep.

The whole situation with Tyler, them being non-binary, is not something to be fixated over.

So why is Brendon so attached and tormented by the idea of it?

He's caught in the middle of the negative and positive emotions.

"We don't visit with their parents very often, so. . ." Josh goes quiet after that, it makes Brendon uneasy. He wonders whether or not they're avoiding Tyler's parents purposefully, or if it's only a time management thing.

"Tyler's really brave, I would never be able to tell anyone something so personal." He bites his lip, nodding as he goes along.

Maybe the statement was odd, Brendon wouldn't know.

"It's a choice of being scared of your loved one's opinions or being true to yourself." Josh knows a lot about Tyler, which is relieving in a sense no matter how strange that may sound. One of the biggest reasons Brendon has never felt comfortable being in a relationship is because he doesn't know whether or not his partner would be so invested in him.

Josh knows Tyler so well. It gives him hope that maybe someone will care for him like that.

There's a chance Josh and Tyler will care for him like that.

He's fighting a smile.

"I didn't understand at first either but the more they talked about it, I got it. Would you want someone to hurt you ever time you spoke with them just because of a word?" Just using the right pronouns is a huge key to Tyler's happiness, it's crazy how much words can control someone.

Brendon can't imagine the guilt he'd feel ever slipping up.

"Um, have-have you ever, you know, accidentally used the wrong--"

"All the fucking time." Josh sighs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah." Josh doesn't bother to hesitate. "It makes you feel like shit, and you don't mean to it either. But, you know, I knew them as _he_ and _him_ for so long that changing the way I spoke about them was really difficult."

"Do you feel like it might be easier for someone who never knew. . . th-th- _them_ before they identified as non-binary." Brendon goes hot while speaking. He almost just did it.

Brendon's never had a situation where he's had to use different pronouns besides the everyday ones. It's still not easy, even when he's only known them for who they are now.

"Definitely." He says. "See, you go through a routine. I wouldn't have to think twice, it was just _oh, him and_ _I_ _are going_ _out_ _,_ but after they told me, I kind of had to train myself not to do that. It was almost like changing everything I knew."

"Do you ever wish it wasn't like that?"

"No way. It really only brought us closer in the end." Josh smiles. "They found trust in me they didn't feel before."

"I'm really glad." Brendon's lips wobble.

It has to be two or so by now. He's spent so much of his day solely having a conversation, which is very out of the ordinary for him. It's been nice, though. Although having Tyler around hadn't been the easiest, Josh is doing his best to make him comfortable, and if Brendon didn't know better, he'd say it's working.

"I want you to feel comfortable around us. I really do. Especially around Tyler."

"I do too." Of course Brendon does.

All he's ever wanted is affection from another. All he's ever wanted is for someone to feel passionate about him. To think about Brendon and smile.

Was that a possible for him?

"Tyler is such a good person." Josh wears his heart on his sleeve unlike Tyler. They have such a different contrast between one another. "And I'm happy you feel the same way because I was really hoping, if you feel comfortable, to come over for dinner one night."

Brendon gulps. "Like. . . At your house?"

"Yeah. At our house." Josh can tell being in a public place seems difficult for him. "Only if you feel ready, because I feel like this has gone really well."

"It-it has gone really well. I'll definitely go for dinner."

Josh is beaming. Brendon is too, just a lot more subtly.

"Awesome." Josh chuckles. "Tyler needs to cook for someone else other than me."

"They like cooking?"

Josh scoffs. "Loves it."

"Any good?"

"Great."

They both laugh lightly.

"As much as I hate it, I've gotta take pictures for a family in about half an hour, so I gotta go." Josh purses his lips. The last thing he wanted was to leave Brendon right now.

"Oh. Uhm, okay." The two of them stand. Josh finished his coffee, Brendon was another story.

"I've had a great time, Brendon. I'm so glad we got to meet." The close contact makes Brendon's heartbeat increase, Josh just being near him like this is, and has been, making him nervous.

"I am, too." Interactions feel like they never get easier.

Brendon's awkward, in every shape and form. The way he stands, the way he talks, every motion he makes.

It's obvious, anyone can catch on, and that's exactly what Josh is doing right now.

"I'll text you." He says, running his hand along Brendon's shoulder as he walks past him.

He's gone, and all Brendon is left with is himself and the crowd of people in this shop. He hadn't notice until now he's trembling. Shaking like he has been out in the cold for hours. Has he been shaking like this the whole time?

That's embarrassing.

Brendon takes it all in.

He can't believe he made it through. It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would go, either.

This gives him hope. He pushed through this, no matter how nervous he was that he wouldn't be able to, and tackled it. The next thing he needs to tackle now is being in Tyler and Josh's own home.

Brendon exhales.

He hopes he's doing it one step at a time.


	12. Control

Most Fridays Brendon would leave to his mother's and take care of her for the weekend until Sunday night, but it's Saturday now. He couldn't find it in himself to go to the retirement home right after meeting the two people he's been growing close to.

For the first time in months, he came home with a smile on his face.

A small one, but it was there.

Now, it's gone.

He sits at the table with his mother beside him and Carina and hers in front of them as he scans over the menu like he does every time, pick and choosing what he knows his mom will and will not like.

Today's choice seems easy enough, he's thankful.

Brendon was really not in the mood to argue with Grace or upset her.

It's not like he ever is, though.

"Spaghetti?" He asks.

His mother turns to look at him, blanket covering her lap and lips pursed together, she nods.

Brendon hadn't eaten anything yesterday, and still hasn't today. He never ate when he was overwhelmed. He can feel his stomach rumbling at the thought of food, he bites down on the tip of his tongue.

Soon enough the servers come around every table with drinks. Brendon gets coffee, Grace gets water.

It was only another day.

***

Brendon sits with his knees to Carina's as they play chess.

She's the only person he's comfortable being close to. Never his parents, never his siblings, never his co-workers, just Carina. It's okay that way.

Touch is such a delicate thing. Brendon's a delicate thing. It took a lot for Carina to ease him down; it took a lot of smiling and a lot of generous gestures for him to not get uneasy when she finally got close. It took a lot of talking and a lot of understanding to get to this point.

Carina is his best friend.

His only friend.

Well, maybe not anymore

 

 

Josh and Tyler are his friends now, aren't they?

"I met Josh." He mutters.

Carina stops for a second. "Josh?"

Brendon doesn't say anything. He only looks back at her, expression lifting.

"Oh! Oh, _oh_." She gasps. She's shocked. She's happy. She's smiling. "Oh, my god. Brendon! That's awesome. How'd it go?" Brendon purposefully putting himself in a social situation is foreign, even he's surprised still. He was expecting this reaction.

"Really well." He says, almost trying to reassure himself. "He actually. . . He actually invited me over for dinner at his house."

Carina's grin is so big her cheeks must be aching by now. "When?"

"I'm not really sure yet. He just told me that if I felt the whole thing went well, if I'd go to his house for dinner sometime." Brendon shrugs, blush dusting his cheeks. He moves his bishop. "And yeah, I did feel like it went well. Definitely."

"That makes me so happy, Bren." She closes her eyes, breathing lightly. "So happy."

There's a moment of silence after that. He watches Carina move one of her pieces, then her smile become easier.

"Is it okay for me to be happy for myself?" Brendon asks quietly.

He doesn't know what's selfish and what's not. He's _happy_ for himself, because he _pushed_ himself, which is very odd for Brendon. He's happy for himself for trying really hard to understand Tyler, because he doesn't quite get everything but he knows soon enough he will. He's happy for himself for finally giving in, and being successful from it.

No matter how difficult it is for him to admit; he is happy for himself.

"Of course." Carina says, easily. "You have every right to."

Brendon nods, now he's smiling again.

Carina reaches for his hand on the table and holds it. He lets it happen.

He still didn't know how long it would take for him to warm up to Josh or Tyler. He doesn't know how long it will take for him to even tell Carina about Tyler.

He's not sure he'll ever have the guts to.

"Carina, the other day I realized I don't have your phone number." Brendon starts. He needed her that day. Josh took her place, and maybe that was okay, but he still missed having her.

Her mouth gapes open. "How have we. . ."

"I don't know."

"Wow. Okay." She pulls her phone out from her pocket and tells Brendon her number slowly so he can add it in.

After, they spent the majority of the day playing chess and catching up with one another like they do every time they see each other. Brendon felt better now knowing that he had his best friends number and would be able to contact her any time he'd like.

He'll have to call her later.

***

Lukas is nice. He sits with Brendon _again_ today. This is the third time.

He thinks they're friends now. He's not really sure, he'll have to ask sometime. Lukas eats Cup O' Noodles every day, Brendon learned, and even came in with an extra one today for him.

He says thank you.

"How long have you been working here anyways?" He asks Brendon, heating up his food.

Brendon has to think about it for a second. "Six years."

"Holy crap." Lukas says, the microwave beeping right after. He takes his food out and finally sits across from Brendon, who already had his heated up.

"Yeah. It doesn't feel like that long."

"Jesus, man. I've only been here for a couple of weeks and am already dragging my feet." The youngest admits, shaking his head with a chuckle.

Brendon opens his mouth to say how he's practically undead at this point, but he's at a loss of words.

His stomach drops.

Debby.

He nearly forgot about her. He's been so caught up with Tyler and Josh but here she is after all these days since the incident, cherry lip gloss and a snarled face at the presence of him.

Brendon swallows.

"You're an asshole." Debby says loud and clear in the door way, so of course everyone is now looking.

Lukas furrows his eyebrows, looking behind him only to see Debby stepping closer to the table they sat at. She has her arms crossed over her chest, giving Brendon such an ugly glare it makes him shiver.

"You didn't take long finding someone to replace me." She mutters, grabbing her food from the fridge.

"I. . . wasn't replacing you, Debby." Brendon frowns. He feels so small around her, so vulnerable.

It shouldn't be like that. 

She scoffs and hums.

Lukas shakes his head heatedly, leaning closer to Brendon. "If you don't say something to her, I will. She's being a fucking bitch." He whispers between them.

Brendon's not sure he has it in him to speak up.

He pulls away.

Biting her lip, she's looking down at him like she has something to consider at the moment. Of course she does, she has caused such a toxic work environment because she couldn't let Brendon grow, she better have used her time away to think.

"Scoot." She demands, nudging him to move so she can sit down with them. Both Lukas and Brendon seemed taken aback by this, and still,  Brendon falls into a place of submission in front of her and does as he's told.

Debby sits beside him, thigh pressed to him, arm pressed to him, _body_ pressed to him.

Touch is delicate. Brendon's delicate.

He's so unbelievably uncomfortable.

He only lets Carina touch him.

Lukas watches the way Brendon starts to crumble, he's visibly upset by Debby taking control of him like that. She's been taking control of him ever since they started talking.

The three of them sit there, Debby eating her tuna sandwich while Brendon was too uneasy to eat any more.

"Debby," Luke says.

Brendon gets nervous. He doesn't want him to say the wrong thing because the only person she's willing to take it out on is Brendon. It's all about Brendon even when it's not.

She finishes chewing. "Yes?"

"You don't get to do that to Brendon."

The latter goes hot.

"Do what? I'm not doing anything to him. I tried to be his friend but he threw me aside. That's a shitty thing to do." Debby doesn't seem to understand how she's in the wrong. She took advantage of someone at their all time low.

"You're fucking with him. You need to stop." He breathes, maybe they really are friends.

Debby sighs heavily, turning to Brendon and placing her hand on his thigh. She knows what she's doing. "You understand why I'm mad, don't you? The only reason this guy is even talking to you is only because he feels bad for you." The only reason Debby started talking to him is because she felt bad for him.

Is this becoming a cycle?

"Please, please don't touch me." Brendon whispers.

"Debby, just leave. Please." Lukas pipes up. "I'm not taking advantage of him like you are, sorry if that's hard to understand." 

Brendon's in the middle of it all, flustered and red at the cheeks. 

"Whatever." Debby stands with her sandwich in hand.

Brendon sees Ryland and Ryan waiting for her at the door, they both look sympathetic and he's not sure who it's towards. Debby mutters something to them as she walks out of the breakroom, they follow her hesitantly, Ryland looking back at him for a moment before walking away.

"God, fuck her."

Brendon still feels the dreaded warmth of her hand.

He needs to talk to Carina again.

"Yeah." He says. Standing up and throwing the rest of his noodles away. "Thank you for the food, and. . . That." Brendon needs to get back to work. His fingers ache from typing so many emails, his eyes sting from staring at the computer screen all day, but it's a necessity.

"Yeah. Of course." Lukas mumbles as Brendon leaves.

He pulls his phone from his pocket while walking past all the cubicles, already on his messages with Josh when turning it on.

**Hey. Do** **you** **think** **I** **can call later** **today** **?**

Brendon is trying to calm himself down. It's not nearly as bad as it was the last time he conversed with Debby and he's thankful, he's more so just angry with himself for being so yielding. It's pathetic how someone like her can do that to him even when she didn't deserve it.

Well, no one deserves to control someone like that.

**Yeah, of course. Is everything alright?**

**I'll** **call** **you** **later.**

Brendon sits down on his chair, a deep breath falling from him. 

He just needs to push through a few more hours, he's capable.

***

Finally being able to lay down in his own bed was a good feeling after a day like this. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and only left on his boxers before doing so.

The first thing he did once he got off work was text Carina. He told her everything, because after talking with her for a while when first admitting he was interested in Josh, he told her about Debby. He told her about Debby the last time he saw her too, and everything that happened.

Yeah, Carina wasn't fond of Debby.

She told him to keep away from her as much as he could, so he's going to try to.

Carina instead says he should focus on Josh right now, and she's right.

Well, he needs to focus on Josh _and_ Tyler. 

Brendon thinks about texting Tyler, but he doesn't. He doesn't know what to say or whether they even want to talk to him right now.

He decides to call Josh instead. Maybe Tyler will be there too.

"Hello," Josh says through the phone after it rings a few times. Brendon's nearly surprised he picked up, but then remembers he asked to call him later today. Josh is always there when he needs him, it's nice. He's constant.

"Hey." Brendon replies.

"Hey." Josh repeats. "I just had another huge session with this couple, they were getting pictures for their wedding cards." He laughs to himself, happily.

"That happens a lot, doesn't it?" It's another stupid question from him.

"Yeah. Some of the most common, actually. Besides family photos." Josh trails off for a moment. "They make me happy."

Brendon assumes it's because of Tyler. He never forgets they're married. It's almost like it's dangling over him every second of the day because of how haunting it is knowing he's throwing himself into a situation with a married couple.

That's scarier than any paranormal activity.

"Anyways," he clears his throat. "How was your day?"

Brendon doesn't like the question. He scratches his scruff. "Uh, it was alright."

It's not convincing at all.

"I was actually wanting to call about the, um, the dinner." All he wanted was to change the subject. He didn't want to burden Josh with his pitiful problems.

"Oh, yeah." Josh beams, it sounds like. "Let me go get Tyler."

Brendon doesn't say anything, he only waits.

He can hear Josh walking around the house to get them. Brendon's heart beats louder knowing he's going to be there soon enough.

"Oh. They're in the shower." He mutters to him.

"Um, o-okay. Just call me back after--"

"No, no." Josh interrupts him, you can hear the shower suddenly get louder. "Tyler."

Brendon puts a hand over his mouth. He doesn't know what to think.

"Yeah?" You can barely hear them over the noise, it's so loud and Brendon is so quiet. His heart is booming in his ears.

"When should Brendon come over for dinner?" The fact that Josh is talking to Tyler about him while they're in the shower has Brendon unable to speak. It's not uncomfortable, he's just in shock.

"I. . . I don't know." They groan. "Saturday?"

"I ca--" Brendon gets cut off again.

"He's busy on the weekends. I told you."

He thinks he can hear Tyler sigh. "Sorry, yeah." There's a pause. "Let's just do Friday again." 

"Alright." Josh agrees. Brendon assumes he is leaving the bathroom now.

"Wait, Josh," 

"Yeah?"

"Get me a towel."

Josh chuckles, Brendon can hear it so clearly. 

There's the sound of a drawer opening, then closing, and the shower being turned off as well. "Damn."

"Are you on the phone with him right now?" Tyler questions, completely avoiding Josh's terse comment about them. Brendon's red again, he's been flustered all day long it feels like.

"Maybe." Josh is a dork. "Say hi."

Tyler sighs, again. "Hi."

Brendon's still quiet.

"Brendon, you're on speaker." Josh tells him.

"Oh. Oh." He's embarrassed. "Hi, Tyler."

Tyler doesn't say anything back. They instead talk to Josh. "Glad I didn't say anything nasty." They chuckled. That's the first time Brendon's ever heard even remotely a laugh from them.

"I wouldn't mind."

"Go away."

Josh laughs. He laughs and then the line is full of lips against lips.

Brendon bites the inside of his mouth, waiting for this to pass so he can talk to Josh again.

"Let's watch a movie tonight." Tyler mutters.

"Definitely."

"Definitely." Tyler repeats. "Now, really, go away."

Josh kisses them one more time, a chortle falling from his tongue when leaving the restroom and closing the door behind him. "Is Friday okay?"

Brendon breathes. "Yeah. That's, that's probably the best time for anything." Brendon knows Josh and Tyler will become weary on what he does during the weekends soon enough, this whole time it's been a trip of gaining enough courage to tell them.

He'll only tell them when he's ready, though.

"I assumed." Josh's smile is prominent through the phone.

"Yeah." Brendon nods to himself. "I'll let you go now."

"Awh, okay." He had plans, Brendon didn't want to interfere with them. It's common courtesy. "I'll text you later."

"Alright. Bye."

"Bye, Brendon."

Josh hangs up first, Brendon lays his phone onto his chest.

Brendon wonders if their relationship will get far enough for him to see Josh and Tyler naked. It may sound simpleminded, but the phone call has made him get to these thoughts. Being nude around someone is a sign of trust, Brendon would say. There's very, very few people in this world who have experienced it with him. He wonders if Tyler and Josh would be those people.

It's going to take a lot to get to that point.

He knows one day it may come, and he needs to be ready for it.

Naked is delicate. Just like Brendon.


	13. Abrupt

Brendon gathers up his stuff around the cubicle to leave Wednesday afternoon. He grabs his coat and tucks his phone into the pocket of his slacks, making sure to clean his glasses before leaving.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Luke." He says when passing, Lukas smiles.

Brendon keeps his head low walking past everyone to the elevator.

It's only been two days since he last talked to Debby and he hopes that was the last time he going to have to. He's learned quickly that she wasn't good for him. Everyone said how horribly she had been treating him so it's time for Brendon to start believing the people who _actually_ cared for him.

He presses the button for the elevator, bouncing back and forth on his heels while waiting.

Thinking about what he should do once he's gone, he considers going to Roscoe's for coffee. He can admit, it was really good, and he wouldn't have to pay nearly as much as he would have to at Starbucks.

He doesn't need to think about it.

He'll go to Roscoe's.

The elevator finally gets to his floor, he walks in and presses the lobby level this time.

Personally, he likes the elevator. It gives him time to compose himself before coming in and out of work, and the music and calming as well.

The doors start to close, he feels like he can breathe again.

"Wait! Wait." Someone says, sticking their arm out so it doesn't shut.

It's Ryland. Brendon frowns.

This won't be any good.

He watches him motion someone over, this _really_ won't be any good.

Ryland walks in the small capacity beside him, then Ryan comes in as well. Brendon knows they don't get off for another hour or so, so they came in here with him purposefully.

The doors close and now Brendon's trapped.

No one says anything. They all stand in silence, but Ryland and Ryan are talking with their eyes, nodding their head towards Brendon.

He pretends he doesn't see.

His heart beat reacts to the silence loudly.

This is uncomfortable.

"Brendon," Ryan pipes up.

The latter takes longer than usual processing his own name. He looks up from his feet in trepidation, hair falling in his face. "Uh, yeah?"

"We just wanted to tell you we're, we're sorry." Ryland cuts in for him.

Brendon feels like he might need to see the otolaryngologist. He squints his eyes, brows pulling together. Did he hear that right? Debby's best friends were apologizing for her actions. "What?"

"Debby's. . . Debby's being a bitch." Ryland admits.

Brendon can't believe this is actually happening.

"We already know she isn't going to apologize, because she doesn't see what she did wrong, and she won't." Ryan interrupts. He really is sympathetic. They both are. "So, we're sorry. Really. We're glad you're making friends. It's important."

It's nice to hear that from someone you never talk to.

Brendon smiles, a small one of course. "That means a lot. Thank you."

"If you're ever willing to go out with us, minus Debby, the offer still stands." Ryan tells him. It's solemn, it's honest.

Brendon is making friends.

Why has this been happening so suddenly?

"We'll. . . We'll have to see." He trails off. Brendon still wasn't ready to go out for drinks with anyone, he could barely get through going to a coffee shop, he can't imagine a bar.

The elevator stops and the doors open once again, revealing the lobby.

"I'll see you later." He tells them, walking out with a wave and a warm body.

"Bye, Brendon." They say in unison, it's almost unsettling. He decides to ignore that thought, walking away from them and around the bottom floor instead. Light shines through the big windows, he could get a tan from the natural sun in his work setting.

He doesn't, though. He's pale.

The last few days have been sunny, Brendon had noticed, which is odd considering it's typically raining and cold during this time of year.

He doesn't hate it.

It's nice.

He listens to happier songs in the car when it's like this.

Brendon gets in his Prius that needs a deep clean at the moment, as it always does, remembering he wanted to go to Roscoe's, so that's where he heads.

He listens to radio stations instead of CDs today.

It's not raining, it's sunny.

***

Brendon parks his car in the closest space he could find along the curb, he didn't want to walk too far, his feet would drag too much, just like Luke said his were starting to.

He walks in, the bell above the door ringing. He didn't hear it the last time he was here but he assumed it's because he was too caught up in his own head to take in all his surroundings.

He's okay this time.

The line isn't long at all, it never is from what he saw.

There's only one other person in front of him, he waits, deciding to get another black coffee. Brendon was very plain most of the time, but other times he wanted something with caramel or chocolate.

He listens to the cashier, she sounds sweet.

The man in front of him finishes his order so now he has to do what he spent so many years working on. It has gotten a lot better, mostly because he had no other choice. He lived alone, he had to order alone.

When he was younger, his mother or father would do it for him. Maybe even one of his siblings. They knew how Brendon was, and at that time, they didn't know what is was. They still helped him, he appreciates it. He'd whisper the order to them in front of the waiter and they'd repeat, he just couldn't seem to do it himself.

He's nearly thirty, he's glad he has finally overcome that.

"Good afternoon," The cashier beams. "What would you like?"

"Could I get a tall black coffee, please?" Brendon asks, already opening his wallet.

"Of course." She smiles, her name tag says Lyndsey. It's oddly spelt but he likes it. "That'll be two twenty-five."

Brendon nods, pulling out a five. She repeats what's on the bill, which most cashiers seem to do, and hands him the rest of his change. He slips it into his wallet.

"Your name?"

"Brendon."

"Got it." She assures, calling up the next person.

Most coffee shops spell his name wrong. They usually write _Brandon_ although it's obvious he said it with an E. He shakes his head, walking away from the counter and instead looking for a place to sit.

It's never that busy in here which is nice, there's many open spots he scans his eyes over and they're all okay until he sees another.

He suddenly gasps, trembling hand slapping over his mouth.

"Oh, my god." Brendon whispers to himself, trying to register what he sees.

It's Tyler.

It's Tyler and they're on a laptop with a pen and paper beside them.

It's Tyler and they're sitting alone.

It's Tyler and Brendon knows the right thing to do is say hello.

Maybe he'll wait until his coffee is done, because it seems like they haven't noticed him. If they did, Brendon wouldn't have guessed. He hopes they haven't noticed him; they might be thinking he's avoiding them if so.

In a way, he has been.

Brendon doesn't want it to be like that.

If he can't even send a text to Tyler what is he going to say to them in person?

When they first met, he was nervous, but not nearly as nervous as right now because Josh was there too, calming him down. Josh isn't here this time, from what he sees, which means he has to do this all alone and if he messes up there's no immediate moral support.

He tries to remind himself to breathe through it, he lets Tyler get to him too much for no reason whatsoever.

Brendon considers texting Josh, but realizes how immature that is.

He _needs_ to do this on his own, he doesn't have to.

"Brendon!" Another employee yells, his order must be done. He watches Tyler slowly lift their head at his name, eyebrows furrowing together. They look around for a moment, seeing Brendon pressed against the wall with rosy cheeks and all. They don't smile, they don't frown, they only push out the chair in front of them expectantly.

Brendon bites his lip, looking concerned. He grabs his coffee and walks to the table they're sat at, body shaking as he sits.

"Hey." Tyler says.

Brendon's mouth twitches, Tyler's does too. "Hey."

This might be even more awkward than being in the elevator with Ryland and Ryan.

Tyler's typing away on the laptop in front of them, eyes glued to the screen while they did so. Brendon wonders what they're doing, so he pushes the aching in his abdomen down and speaks up.

"Editing the draft for a script." They mumble. "I'm supposed to hand it to the production team tomorrow."

"What's. . . What's it about?"

Brendon advertises for a living. Not in the way Tyler does, but he might be able to relate to some of the things they do. He sends and replies to emails all day long because of random products, Tyler writes advertisements for production.

"It's one of those as-seen-on-TV products." They roll their eyes.

"Oh." Brendon whispers.

Silence falls over them. Tyler doesn't seem to care, but Brendon can't read Tyler no matter how much he tries.

Maybe that's why he avoids them.

Open people were easier to talk to than someone who doesn't show vulnerability. Brendon can admit he shows too much, which overall is one of his worst qualities, yet he'd still like to see it from Tyler. It would make this a lot easier for him, but this whole relationship wasn't supposed to be easy, is it? Brendon needs to challenge himself, so maybe Tyler being harder to budge compared to Josh is a good thing.

It's a chance for both of them to grow.

If they're willing.

Brendon looks up from his coffee and runs his eyes over Tyler.

The last time the two of them talked, they were naked. Brendon hasn't been able to forget about it and he doesn't know why, because he didn't see anything, he just knew it was happening.

Brendon feels bad for only being able to think about them nude right now.

Almost as if Tyler knows, they glance his way, and Brendon flushes.

Their eyes are darker than Josh's, but not as warm. Nothing about them has been very warm, and that's okay, Brendon can move past it because he believes Josh when he tells him how good of a person they are.

He believes it.

They're staring at one another, Brendon doesn't know what's happening. They keep bumping knees beneath the table and his breath gives out every time.

Tyler's eyelashes are so long. They blink. "Do you like spaghetti?"

Brendon suppresses his laughter, only nodding with a smile. "Yeah, yeah. I do."

He likes spaghetti if it's not served at the retirement home.

Tyler breaks away from them and Brendon's undeclared contest and closes their laptop after typing one last thing in. They slip it into a messenger bag at their feet which Brendon didn't see until now, looking at the pen and paper still on the table.

The page is blank, Brendon watches them pick up the pen and write _spaghetti_ in between the lines.

Tyler looks at him again, lips crooked because how deep their teeth are digging into the bottom one. Brendon can only sit and wait, leaving seems to be rude at the moment. He'll let Tyler examine every feature of his face as long as it's beneficial.

Brendon does the same. Tyler's nice to look at.

They're wearing a dark jean jacket and a black shirt, with light yellow pants and another pair of black boots.

It's worse than last Friday but he isn't going to say anything.

Their thumbs are painted white too. Only their thumbs. Brendon doesn't get it and he's not sure he will.

Tyler's different.

Brendon feels like his heart might beat out of his chest at this point. They haven't had an actual conversation this whole time and that was the goal. Brendon's barely touched his coffee because of how overwhelming this is sitting here with them.

"Are you uncomfortable with me being non-binary." Tyler says. Not asks.

Brendon feels himself begin to spiral; palms sweating, toes curling, heart stopping, stomach dropping.

He licks his lips. "No-no."

It's true, isn't it? He's not scared of them, he's scared of not understanding them.

Tyler leans against their hand, rubbing their screwed eyes with a deep sigh. They sigh a lot. "You can tell me."

"I'm not lying." Brendon frowns.

"Okay." Tyler mutters. "Okay."

It's almost like they're trying to reassure themself.

"I-I mean, if I was, I wouldn't have met you and Josh. If I was, I definitely wouldn't be coming to your house this week." Brendon tries to help them understand, they seem like they don't. He knows it's because of how much he avoids them. This is his fault.

There's a pause again between them, Tyler looks for body language.

They drop the pen and fold the paper. "You're right." They stand. "I'm sorry."

Brendon can only watch them slide the paper into their pocket. Tyler slings the bag across one of their shoulders, Brendon almost forgot how tall they are. They look down at him. "I'll see you on Friday." Tyler keeps still. "Text me."

They walk away after that, pen and coffee cup still on the table.

All Brendon manages to do is sip on his coffee, he's nearly heaving.

He'll have to text them.


	14. Bloom

Brendon chews on his cheek, staring down at his and Tyler's extremely empty messages. He's been doing this since yesterday after seeing them at the coffee shop.

He wants to just do something.

The entire situation is perplexing. Brendon gets paranoid remembering he has to build two relationships for _one_. It's different, but he realizes everything about Tyler and Josh is different, and he supposed he was too.

He's never thought about it that way until now.

Brendon has never had the opportunity to grow or express himself, while as Tyler and Josh-- assumingly-- have. Brendon's his own worst enemy and holds himself back, refraining himself from blooming. He doesn't know who he is, he doesn't know what he wants, he only knows how feels.

Becoming closer to Josh and Tyler is exciting, so he continues to do it.

Yeah, maybe he doesn't know fully who he is, but does anyone?

Brendon knows who piques his interest, he knows when things are good and when they're bad.

He knows building a relationship with Tyler and Josh is good. More than good.

Brendon grits his teeth, thumbs slowly pressing along the keyboard. He doesn't know what's little and what's too much. He wants to talk freely to Tyler as he does to Josh, but they're not making it that simple. Maybe Brendon's the one making everything so messy.

He just needs to message them.

**Hey.** **I'm** **really** **sorry if it feels like** **I** **may** **be avoiding you.**

It's an apology, this time he knows it's his fault. This isn't the same with Debby where he was confused about it all, she was evidently in the wrong, Tyler isn't. Tyler's done nothing.

Brendon's done something. Well, he's done a lack of something.

He finally walks out of the dispensary, he was running low again. He runs out fast.

It's suddenly another swarm of paranoia remembering he hasn't told Josh nor Tyler he smokes weed. Although it's normal for him, many people cannot stand it. He hopes they aren't those people, because it's not something he's willing to give up, especially right now.

He has too many things to expose.

Brendon's phone goes off, bile nearly rises in his throat.

**It's** **fine** **. I get it.**

Brendon purposefully not talking to Tyler is not okay. Brendon not being honest with Tyler is not okay. Brendon not treating them the same way he treats Josh is not okay. Nothing about what Brendon has been doing is fine. 

**It's not fine though. I feel really bad.**

Admitting this stirs his stomach. He doesn't feel well, but he hopes this will help them both move forward. Because Tyler knows now, Tyler knows maybe he was avoiding them but it wasn't doing any good.

Brendon is terrified of the world.

**Really, don't** **worry** **about it.**

**Okay.**

Of course he'll worry about it. He worries about everything.

**I went out and bought stuff for spaghetti. I hope** **you** **weren't** **lying.**

Brendon smiles to himself, breathing steadily.

**Believe me,** **I** **wasn't.**

He tucks his phone into his back pocket and walks along the sidewalk, looking inside all the stores and boutiques. He had to park farther than he'd like this time around, but it gave him time to observe.

Brendon doesn't go out much.

He's not sure he'll ever take the Ryan's offer. He can do grocery stores and other places that are necessary, but bars and clubs might be his worst bet. His brothers used to try to take him out a lot; Brendon couldn't be there for more than ten minutes without having an anxiety attack.

He's lost so much of his life. He never got the teenage experience everyone would go on about or even as a young adult.

Brendon will be thirty.

Thirty and is just now beginning to make friends, thirty and is just now getting more comfortable pushing himself.

It's heart-rending.

He walks past a dessert shop selling homemade chocolate with a flower stand in front of it. It smells amazing.

Brendon looks back down and his feet and makes sure to step on every divot in the concrete, or the direct center between two. He's done that ever since he was a kid, it's only ever if he pays too much attention to his feet though.

He promptly stops in place before reaching his car.

Brendon turns around, looking back at the flower stand. His lips part.

Getting flowers for Josh and Tyler would be a nice gesture. Romantic, even. Brendon's not used to that.

He bites down on his cheek so hard he winces. He doesn't need to think about it, after weeks of being connected to them, it's the least he could do. Especially for Tyler.

Brendon walks back, the man running the stand smiles at him.

"Changed your mind, hmm?" 

Brendon let's out a nervous chuckle, nodding as he looks through all the different flowers.

They're so nice, he purses his lips.

"Don't flowers have. . . Meaning. . ." He mumbles.

The older man laughs. "Yeah, they do." He stands straight. "Who are you buying them for?"

"Uh, a-a love interest."

He nods, pointing to a certain bouquet. "White dittany, supposed to represent love and passion. They're really common for gifts." He then points to one with two different kinds of flowers. "Yellow daffodils and blue violet flowers are for newbeginnings, if that's more of what your looking for. Future success, trustworthiness, affection." He rambles. Brendon's trying to be conscious.

"Oh, and roses, of course." The man smiles. "They're a lot like blue violets; promise, hope. . . _Romance_."

Brendon gulps, heart in his throat.

He quickly realizes he's buying these for two people, not one.

Does he get two bouquets?

He doesn't know. He picks up the roses, they seem like an obvious choice.

"Alright, that will be--"

Brendon picks up the daffodils and blue violets too. He holds them both, the man seems a bit surprised.

"Oh, okay." He doesn't push further, he's not sure he'd want to. "Both of them would be forty-five." Brendon's eyes go wide, he's never bought flowers for anyone though so he's not sure what the average cost even is. He only pays and tries not to dwell on it too much.

It should definitely be worth it.

Brendon drives home with the bouquets in the passenger's seat, he could only hope buying two was the right thing to do.

***

Maybe shaving his facial hair high wasn't the best decision but Brendon has gotten immune to the feeling so it should be okay.

He has to lean against the sink to steady himself, eyes blinking lightly in concentration. He shaves sluggishly, not because he was trying to be careful but his body couldn't move any faster.

Tyler had already seen how bad his stubble had grown since last Friday, he shaves anyways.

He looks more lively with no facial hair.

Brendon smiles in a hazy manner at the smell of his shaving cream, just finishing the last spot. He rinses the razor off in the sink, and makes sure to clean the leftover spots.

He looks alright.

After a few more glances of himself in the mirror, he leaves the restroom.

He was hungry.

Brendon realizes he needs to go grocery shopping. He has a very little amount of food left in his fridge. He was living off macaroni and cheese and hamburger helper. He ate the hamburger helper without the hamburger.

It was just helper.

Brendon looks through the cabinets, finding a half eaten family size bag of cheetos.

That will do.

He goes over to his couch and gets comfortable, sinking into the cushion and closing his eyes, shoving more than three chips in his mouth.

It's times like these where having a television would be amazing.

He doesn't have one though, he can only hear his own chewing.

Brendon feels something vibrating, he can't wrap his head around what it is so he keeps trying to empty the bag as fast as he can. Cheetos might be Brendon's favorite chips. Well, at least his favorite chips while high.

The vibrating doesn't stop.

It finally dawns on him what it is.

Brendon sets the bag down and slips his phone out from his shorts, answering the call and bringing it to his ear.

He knows he needs to act sober, because he'd much rather have Josh and Tyler find out he smokes marijuana later, when he's fully conscious.

" _Hey_." Brendon says.

Josh laughs. "Uh, hi Brendon."

He laughs too. He doesn't know why but Josh laughing is only encouraging him.

"Glad to hear you're in a good mood." Josh utters, chuckling lightly to try and calm himself down. Brendon wonders why he's laughing, is he really acting that out of the ordinary?

He only laughs harder at the thought.

"Mhm, very." He mutters.

"That's good." Josh declares. "I was calling to ask if six was alright."

Brendon takes too long to process it, he still doesn't understand. "Six? Six for what?" He asks, confused.

"The dinner tomorrow." He can hear Josh trying to suppress his cackling.

" _Ohh_. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Six, six is good." He agrees. Any time is good as long as he got to be with Tyler and Josh. They make him happy, he's glad they're comfortable enough inviting him over to their house.

"Awesome. We're excited to have you over." It's genuine.

Brendon smiles big and wide. "I'm excited too."

"I'm gonna put you on speaker, Tyler wants to talk with you too." Josh mumbles.

Brendon's smile fades, he only nods. If he wasn't stoned right now, this would make him nervous. The last thing Brendon is right now is nervous, though. He actually messaged Tyler today, which is a step in the right direction. He feels a lot better trying to talk with them already.

"Josh, I just wanted to say goodnight." They chuckled, again. That's the second time.

"Well, say goodnight."

"Goodnight, Brendon. I'll see you tomorrow." Tyler breathes, they sound really close to the phone.

Brendon cannot believe he's already going to be around the both of them again. Time has been flying by being with Josh and Tyler, he knows it's not a bad thing either.

"Goodnight. I'll be there at six. Six." He assures.

Chortles fall from Josh's mouth, maybe even Tyler's too.

"Okay." They whisper.

There's a pause, Brendon eats more cheetos.

"We're going to head to bed, good night." Josh pipes up, muffled sounds coming through the phone and then a groan. "I'll see you tomorrow night. At six." He almost giggles.

"Alrighty. Goodnight." Brendon smiles. He should go to bed too.

"Night." Josh mumbles once more before ending the call.

Knowing Josh called to make sure everything was in place makes his whole body tingle because of how ecstatic he is. Or maybe it's the weed. He doesn't know, he doesn't care. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about tomorrow.

Brendon gets up from the couch, he leaves the bag of chips behind. Slowly, he makes his way into the bedroom, falling onto the bed with no remorse.

It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep, he still has cheeto dust on his fingers.


	15. Dinner

When Brendon woke up, he was nearly off the bed at that point, face first into the comforter but his knees were hovering above the ground.

He moans in distress, rubbing his fingers into his forehead.

Brendon pushes himself off the bed and stands slowly, his whole body aching from the position he was assumingly in the entire night. Knees weak, he makes his way to the bathroom. He remembers very little about last night, the only thing he could recall is eating cheetos and Josh calling him for something.

The thought of Josh calling him while he was stoned makes him extremely nervous.

He could only hope he didn't sound too unorthodox.

Brendon's heart falls into the pit of his stomach knowing he'll be going to Tyler and Josh's home later.

After buying both bouquets, Brendon had been repeating to himself over and over again what he'd say as he gave them the flowers, he couldn't think of anything though. The message is pretty clear what it's supposed to mean, anyways.

Brendon turns to look at himself in the mirror, and it talks back; he needs to shower.

He definitely smells like weed and when he looks down his fingers are covered in cheeto dust.

He's not even in public yet he's still embarrassed.

Sighing, he turns on the shower, taking a piss as it heats up.

Brendon flushes the toilet and pulls his shorts and boxers off his hips, letting them sit on the floor as he stepped inside. He lets out a pleased noise at the warmth, letting the water run over his pale skin and dark hair. It's calming down his nerves as good as it can, he's glad.

Of course Brendon was overjoyed being able to spend time with Tyler and Josh in a more intimate place, but he is Brendon, and he could never just be happy without having a clouded mind.

The last time he'd visited someone's house besides his mother's was months, maybe even a year ago.

He doesn't visit anyone and no one visits him.

That's just how it is.

So, although being stressed, Brendon can't express how thankful he is to be invited into their home.

After his shower he realizes it's already past one; he always sleeps in too late on days like yesterday. He's pleased with that though, knowing full well if he woke up earlier he'd spend the whole time waiting to leave impatatiently. Instead, he calls Carina, and talks to her longer than he should about his worries and his wishes, she has always been a good listener.

By the time their call ended, he had a little less than an hour before he was supposed to be at Tyler and Josh's house.

It's almost completely dark outside, he can't believe he talked to Carina for so long.

He was happy to pass the time at least.

Brendon chews on his lip, making sure to copy the address Josh had sent him last night that he never remembers receiving and putting it into Google Maps to see how far it was.

It's about fifteen minutes away, he stands.

Being a little early wouldn't hurt anyone, especially not Brendon. He wants to see them both, badly. It sounds pathetic but it's only true. He makes sure to grab the bouquets, holding them close to his chest as he locks his apartment door and begins walking to his car.

Brendon's buoyant.

***

It's not until five-fifty he gets to Tyler and Josh's house. He's glad to have left early because the traffic was terrible today, he forgets how bad it is on Fridays.

By now it's completely dark outside, Brendon can barely see what their home looks like but what he can see is the small yard and big tree, as well as the minimal porch. The lamp is the only thing giving him any direction, he coughs.

His chest felt like it was falling in on him, the only option he has is to ignore it.

There was no opting out of this one.

It's not like he wanted to, anyways. That's the last thing he wanted.

Brendon pushes his glasses up, nodding to himself in reassurance. There's so much doubt, and the only way to move past it is to think positively.

He _knows_ this will go well.

Swallowing, he gets out of the car. The breeze makes him shiver, or maybe it's nerves.

There was no denying Tyler and Josh lived in a nice neighborhood, there wasn't too many cars passing by or stray cats around the road, unlike Brendon's. He walks up to the door with a trembling frame, scratching at his neck harshly.

He's stood there longer than he should, he was only preparing himself.

After a few more moment of digging his nails into the palm on his hand, he presses the doorbell. The loud noise makes his knees weak. 

Immediately, there's loud barking and Brendon furrows his brows. 

He doesn't remember anything about a dog. Was he at the wrong house?

Before he could feel troubled by this, the door opens, and then reveals Josh with a wide grin and a dog with a golden coat.

Brendon inhales, bouquets shaking with him.

"Hey!" Josh exclaims, the dog prancing from inside, continuing to bark at the stranger.

"H-hey," Brendon sputters out, already far too overwhelmed. He holds out the roses. "I got these for you-- I got you and Tyler flowers. I didn't know if I should have gotten one or two so I, I just got two. I hope that's okay."

Josh grabs the bouquet, smiling so wide his eyes squint. "One would have been fine, but I think this is better."

Brendon sucks in his bottom lip, not knowing what to say in response.

"Come in." He opens the door wider for him, Brendon can hear Josh scolding the dog quietly for barking as he walks inside.

"I didn't know you guys had a dog. . ." He mutters.

"What? I swear I've brought him up." Josh says, dumbfounded. "His name is Jim."

"Jim?"

"Jim."

Brendon bites his cheek, nodding once again.

"Tyler's in the kitchen." Josh suddenly told him, gesturing him towards the room. Brendon follows, eyes subtly scanning around the home. The entrance walls hung pictures of Josh and Tyler, others are them with people he's never seen before. He doesn't get much time to take it all in before he's in the other room.

The dining space and kitchen are connected, there's even bar stools at the counter.

When the two of them walk in, Tyler pulls away from cooking and instead looks over. They're wearing light jeans and a big, orange knit sweater.

"Hey, Brendon." They say, almost timidly when seeing the flowers in his hand.

"I got you and Josh flowers," He breathes. "I probably should've just gotten one." Brendon chuckles nervously.

Tyler grabs the bouquet, glancing over to their husband to see his flowers before looking back to Brendon. The corner of their lips lift. "Thanks."

He watches them reach into the cupboard, grabbing a big enough vase and filling it with water. Brendon wonders if either of them know what the flowers meant, he wonders of he should just tell them, because they're sentimental.

He doesn't.

Tyler puts their flowers in the vase, reaching for Josh's too. Once both bouquets are resting nicely in the purple glass, they walk over to the table and set it in the center.

"There." They say, standing back to look at it.

Josh comments about how nice the setting looks now and sits down on one of the barstools, tapping the other for Brendon to sit beside him. He does as told, carefully sitting down only for Jim to stand by his feet.

Brendon leans down to pet him, Jim smiles with his tongue falling from his mouth, leaning into Brendon's hand so his fingers could run through more of his fur.

"I love dogs." He expresses.

"Do you have one of your own?" Josh questions.

"I wish," Brendon sighs. "They're not allowed at the apartments I live at."

If he really wanted to, he could get a service dog; they would have to allow him to have it then, but he doesn't, because it would be visible to everyone that he has a problem. Brendon is very to himself.

Josh frowns, looking down at his dog. "Well, I'm sure Jim can fill the void."

"Definitely."

Silence falls over them, Brendon can't decide whether it's awkward or comfortable, he only sits there fiddling with his fingers.

He and Josh watch Tyler cook, they're too concentrated on the food to bring anything up to surface. Brendon observes because that's all he could do, Tyler is nice to observe. They tug at the neckline of their sweater and poor sauce into the noodles, stirring it all together. Tonight's outfit might be one of the most tame ones he's seen from them. Maybe Brendon was too judgemental or maybe Tyler genuinely had an odd sense of style, he wasn't sure.

"Josh, set the table." They mutter, dinner must be done.

Josh sits up, leaving Jim and Brendon be, instead grabbing plates and forks.

Tyler puts on mitts, opening the oven and pulling out garlic bread with cheese on top of it.

Brendon nearly drools out the sight, he hasn't eaten anything this good looking in weeks.

"Brendon," the latter perks up at the mention of his name. Tyler's eyes fall onto him, it reminds him of being at Roscoe's with them again. "If you can, could you take the spaghetti over there."

"Uh, yeah. Of course." Brendon sits up quickly, grabbing the pot off the stove and setting it down beside the flowers.

Josh and Brendon get settled, the two wait for Tyler.

Soon enough they come over to the table with bread on a plate and tongs to grab the spaghetti. Before they take a seat, Tyler makes sure to tell Jim to go to his bed, which he immediately walks out of the kitchen from the command. Brendon's thoroughly surprised he even knows what that meant.

Once Tyler sits down, Brendon gets an unsettled stomach.

Them and Josh are both sitting across from him, a complete interrogation stance.

He lets out a deep breath, being inside their home was already intimidating but this, sitting in front of them at the table is worse.

"Take as much as you want. I made a lot." Tyler tells him after getting some for themself.

Brendon nods, he nods too much. He just doesn't trust himself to speak sometimes. He grabs the tongs and gets enough spaghetti to keep him satisfied, afraid if he got too much Josh and Tyler would be dismayed.

He grabs some bread too.

His heart races, he doesn't know if he could eat. "You-you. . . You guys don't pray, do you?"

It's not meant to come off harsh, he just wanted to make sure.

"God, no." Josh shakes his head. "Do you?"

"Um, not anymore." Brendon admits.

Josh chuckles. "Just eat your food. It's really good, I promise. Everything Tyler makes is really good." He constantly praises them, Brendon had noticed. It's warming.

He doesn't take a bite until Tyler does, hoping he would be able to stomach food with all the nerves eating him away.

As they all begin to eat, Brendon realizes it wasn't just Tyler who didn't know what to say in a situation like this, it's everyone. Even Josh seems a bit at a loss for words. They all dig into their food quietly, Brendon's trying to stay put together.

Josh finishes chewing when he says, "Sorry we're so quiet, we never really have people over for dinner." He laughs, it makes the setting easier to sit through. Josh stops momentarily. "Well, actually. . ."

Brendon's not sure what he means, but Tyler does.

"Josh," it's nearly a warning.

"Sorry." He sighs. "I just, we've had other people over but not like this."

It doesn't make any sense to him. "Like this?" Brendon mumbles in a confused manner.

Josh goes quiet, like he's trying to think of what to say.

Tyler stops eating their food. "Just tell him." They shrug. "He'll find out sooner or later anyways."

Brendon's heart starts beating louder than it already has, if that was possible. That alone made him paranoid. He didn't know all that much about either of them, and he was eager to learn, but not so much if Josh was hesitant to even tell him.

"Usually the people who come over here are people we have, well, sex with." He admits, watching Brendon's cheeks flush furiously at the information.

"Uhm. . . Oh. . ."

"What I meant to say is that we never exactly have had any romantic relationships with anyone." Brendon's trying to figure out if Carina was right for warning him they might be using him for sex. "This is our first time."

"Being with someone romantically?"

"Yeah." Josh holds Tyler's hand underneath the table. "We've tried, but it never works out."

Brendon watches Tyler subtly falter when he says that. Something must keep happening.

"So does that mean this a date?"

"Definitely." Tyler answers this time.

Brendon smiles, heart almost giving up on him.

He hasn't been on a date in years. Then, it was only ever with one person, and being on a date with two is a completely different feeling.

Josh takes a bite of his garlic bread, Brendon is fully interested in them now. He was under the impression they've been romantically involved with others because of how natural they seemingly are with him. It's nice, he's very glad to share this with them because it's beginning for all three of them, in a way.

Brendon still wants to know more about their past partners though, but he isn't sure if it's appropriate to ask.

It doesn't take him long to decide to ask anyways, it seems important.

"Is it okay if I ask, um, about your other relationships?" He tries swallowing the lump in his throat.

Josh and Tyler glance at one another, having a mutual response.

"Sure." Josh says.

"We'll be here all night." Tyler adds in, taking another bite of spaghetti. They're nearly finished.

Brendon starts eating more of his plate, going hot from their statement.

"I mean, what do you wanna know?" Josh questions, wiping his mouth with a napkin. His stare is strong, but not nearly as strong as Tyler's. His is warm, his is comforting, his welcomes Brendon's. Brendon couldn't tell if Tyler's is the same, he only knows it doesn't feel like it.

"You said you've tried to have more romantic relationships, but it doesn't work out." He repeats what Josh told him. "Why not?"

Josh lets out a heavy breath, Tyler's very quiet.

"We would invite people into our life purely for sexual pleasure, and that's all it was for them, but not for us." Josh lifts his shoulders, shaking his head while speaking. "I don't blame them, they thought it was only for sex and then we'd always grow feelings for them."

Brendon frowns slightly.

"People got aggressive, verbally, when we asked for something more." Josh finishes all his pasta, pushing his plate aside. "We finally decided a while ago to start things off the other way around, you know? We were doing it backwards."

The thought of doing anything sexual with them makes Brendon's pulse feel fake. He knows if things go well they will eventually get to that point, but hearing them talk so openly about their sex life when there's still so much to learn about one another makes his chest hurt.

Tyler leans against Josh's shoulder, they observe a lot like Brendon.

"We've met a few people since then but no one's ever seen us after that." Josh tries to suppress the smile growing on his face. "Only you."

Brendon knows nothing about the emotion he feels but for once it isn't a burden, it feels like his heart may be flourishing.

"We really appreciate you trying just as hard as us." Josh is sweet.

Brendon chuckles sarcastically. He's not the person to thank.

"You don't have to say that, I'm just lucky either of you are interested in me." His eyes shift back to his food, he won't finish what's left and he knows so.

"Why do you say that?" Tyler asks.

"I don't know. . ." He does know. There's too many things wrong with him. "I'm not very appealing, I guess."

"I disagree." They answer, blatantly.

"I think you bring yourself down too much." Josh grants, sitting up from his seat and stacking his and Tyler's plates together, motioning for Brendon to give him his although there was still food, he doesn't understand how Josh can read him so well.

Tyler lets go of his hand, letting Josh walk to the kitchen and put the plates inside the sink.

"Wanna see something cool?" They question.

"Okay,"

Tyler calls for Jim, who comes running in with excitement.

They get out of their seat and instead sit on the floor with the dog, petting him. "He knows a lot of tricks."

Brendon smiles. He missed being around animals. He grew up with many of them, mostly dogs but he had reptiles here and there as well. They were very helpful in his time of need; they have so much love to give and he wished he could experience that again.

"Jim can dance." Josh pipes up.

"You ruined the surprise." Tyler groans.

Brendon slowly joins them on the floor, he doesn't know why they moved.

Josh rolls his eyes, looking over to Brendon. "Wanna see?"

He nods.

"Jim," Josh says, the golden retriever walking over to his other owner, wagging his tail. "Dance!" It comes out in a pitchy tone, Brendon laughs as he watches Jim jump from his back legs and spin in the air. He does it a few times before Josh grins and pats his head to praise him.

All three of them have ended up sitting on the floor, Jim laying his head into Josh's lap.

The silence is eager and makes another appearance. This time, Brendon is aware of the comfortability it holds, eyes fixated on the two in front of him while they're completely fixated on each other.

Brendon watches Josh lean into Tyler until their lips meet, nose brushing against theirs and eyes closing for a few moments to bask in it.

It's affection.

Brendon's foot begins shaking in panic, intimacy makes him so nervous.

Pulling away once, Josh kisses them one more time before resting his head on their shoulder and connecting eyes with Brendon. "When's the last time you've been on a date?"

He doesn't want to say it aloud. It's humiliating.

Brendon shrinks back into his shell, he does it often. "A few years." He whispers.

"Years?"

Tyler seems upset. "You haven't been on a date in years either."

"But I'm married."

"But you're allowed to do it if you wanted to." With them, of course.

"And I'm doing it now." Josh points out.

"So is Brendon." He didn't know this was a date until today, but he's glad it is. It finally gives him the chance to tell people with pride that he's been pushing himself.

Josh discards the conversation. "Is it just coincidental or. . ."

Brendon pulls a knee to his chest like a child would, trying to hide behind it the best he could. He doesn't like talking about himself because everything is sad, he is sad. "I-I never get close enough to a person for it to be possible."

"Well, now you're on a date with two people, look at that." Josh laughs.

Brendon doesn't laugh, he's getting too caught up in his own head again.

It happens every time reality is brought to the table.

Tyler bites at their lip when seeing Brendon's expression, slinging an arm around their husband. Josh flinches as Jim whimpers, getting up from his side and instead going over to Brendon. He nudges his nose in between his chin and knee, trying to separate them.

Brendon's lips twitch, he sits up straighter to pet him.

Jim falls to the floor and turns so his stomach faced his new friend. Brendon couldn't help but rub his belly, smiling because of the dog's utter endearment.

"Sorry." Josh suddenly says, Brendon lifts his head. "I guess I should've asked to say that first. It's pretty personal."

"It's, it's fine." Brendon shrugs. "It's important to know I guess."

Tyler's staring.

Tyler's waiting.

Brendon looks away from them.

"I haven't been in an actual, _actual_ relationship since high school." He confesses. He's only ever told Carina that.

Josh raises his eyebrows, while Tyler doesn't look surprised at all.

"Josh is the only person I've ever dated." Tyler tells him easily.

They're married now.

"Tyler's the only person I've dated."

Brendon comes to the conclusion he assumes too much. Tyler and Josh seem like they've been with multiple people romantically before; they're naturals when it comes to love but maybe that's because they've only ever learned what it means between themselves.

"And now you guys are married. . . But are looking for a third person and that might just be me. . ." He thinks out loud.

"We hope it's you." Josh comments.

Brendon blushes so hard his cheeks hurt, he's not used to confrontation like this.

Tyler sucks their bottom lip in order to refrain themself from smiling. Brendon has noticed quickly that they don't smile, or at least try their hardest not to.

He wonders why.

All he does is wonder.

Brendon swallows. "I hope it's me too."

"Only time will tell." Tyler sits up, subtly covering their mouth for a second but Brendon could see their cheeks lift. "Want dessert? I made lemon cake."

"Would we eat it on the floor?"

They chuckle, that's the first time he's heard it in person. He's going so hot.

"No." They say. "We'll eat it in the living room."

"Then yes." Brendon loves lemon cake.

"Would we watch a movie?" Josh suggests.

"Yeah, we can watch a movie." Tyler agrees, pulling cake from the refrigerator and sitting it down on the counter.

Josh stands. Brendon takes longer, comfortable sitting there with Jim, but he gets off the floor anyways.

Tyler gets themself and Josh a slice, Brendon can hear them both kiss once again while he gets his own piece. He tries to not fret on it too much, knowing full well now that this is the least of his worries.

As he turns around, Tyler's already started walking to the living room.

Josh is waiting for him though, Brendon has no idea where anything is in their house.

He gives him a fork and they start making their way as well, out the kitchen and then they're at the entrance again.

"You can take your shoes off if you want." Josh mumbles.

Brendon stands there for a second, eyebrows pulling together. "But what if my feet stink. . ." He ponders to him, concerned.

Josh's body jolts forward as he chuckles, face erupting with a huge grin when he lets out a loud laugh from Brendon's statement. "Okay, Brendon. Keep your shoes on then." He snickers, shaking his head and leading him over to the living room.

It's dimly lit, there's a big couch and a lounge chair. Their television is huge, too.

Brendon wished to live like this.

Josh sits down, there's a coffee table you could put your plate on and that's what he did. Brendon's not certain how comfortable he is sitting directly beside them both so he plans to sit on the lounge chair.

These plans were changed, quickly.

His eyes go wide, watching Jim jump onto the seat in front him, circling around a couple of times before laying down and getting situated.

He looks at Brendon and Brendon looks at him.

"You're not going to be able to sit there." Tyler breaks it to him. "That's Jim's seat."

"Oh," he breathes.

Brendon turns, seeing Tyler and Josh sitting on opposite sides of the couch, leaving the middle open.

He can only believe they did this purposefully.

He carefully sits down between the two of them, hands shaky and stomach the farthest from pleased. Brendon still eats despite this, cutting off a piece of the lemon cake and opening wide to enjoy it.

He does, too.

"Is it good?" Tyler asks, smirking as they scroll through channels on the TV.

"More than good." Brendon assures.

"Better be." They mutter. "I beat my ass over it."

Brendon almost feels bad, it's all because of him. He hopes it wasn't that much of a pain.

"I'm holding myself back from making a joke right now." Josh cuts in.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you're such a kid." Tyler moans, switching to DVD. They get up and bend over to look at the movies they have in one of the cupboards beneath the television.

"Don't say that just because Brendon's here, you and I both know you'd be--"

"Josh, stop talking. Now."

Brendon tries to ignore his surroundings by eating, he's not sure if he'll ever stop blushing tonight.

Tyler has been talking a lot more than he expected, maybe they're more expressive because they're home instead of out in public, or maybe they're getting more comfortable around Brendon.

The latter would reassure him a lot.

"We should watch White Chicks!" Josh shouts.

He questions Brendon if he's ever seen it, which ultimately, he hasn't. So he demands that should be the movie everyone watches, and it is. Tyler finds the DVD and places in, falling back onto the couch once it begins playing.

Brendon has finished his cake by this time, he wants another piece but isn't outspoken enough to ask, he only sits back more, feeling as though he was stepping over boundaries if he leaned any further.

He decides to enjoy the movie, since Josh was adamant about watching it.

***

Tyler glances at Brendon a lot throughout their time in the living room, he pretends not to notice it although he does every time it happens, which is often.

It makes him anxious, he doesn't like attention.

Of course, he won't tell them anything, though.

He only pushes his thighs together, eyes shifting to their movements below their waist so it wasn't obvious he was looking. Tyler's toes are curling. 

Brendon does that when he's nervous; he's doing it too.

His stomach is so unbelievably upset with him and not even Josh reciting every single line from the movie is helping him calm down right now. He can feel himself slipping into that panicking state he was nearly at earlier on the floor, but it's coming in as a packed punch this time around.

Everything is too much.

Brendon tightens and untightens his fist, it usually reduces stress.

He turns his head to look at Tyler, who acts as if they weren't just staring at him.

"Where's the bathroom?" He asks desperately.

Tyler slowly meets his eyes. Instead of answering, they stand up to show him.

He feels bad for wanting to be alone.

The two of them walk past the stairs, which Brendon has been very curious about, and down a small hallway until they reach it. It's too dark to see faces but lit enough to see frames, Tyler's closer than they should be right now.

Brendon tries to walk in but Tyler interrupts. "This is going well, isn't it?"

"Um, yeah, yeah, it is." He just needs a few seconds to recuperate is all, then Tyler could ask. He really couldn't handle any little thing right now. All he needs is a few seconds.

"You can tell me if it's not." They murmur.

Brendon's struggling to take deep breaths. "I-- no, it's really good, thank you."

Tyler sighs. "Okay."

They both stand still for an awkward few seconds, Brendon takes this chance to walk into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door out of habit.

He knew he should have taken a CBD pill, he knew something like this would happen. He didn't want to admit it to himself, though. He wants things to go well so badly that he's willing to trick himself it will. Yes, it has been, but Brendon's been at the edge of his seat since he first walked in, and he's finally fallen off.

He looks at himself in the mirror, disbelief washes over him knowing this the person Tyler and Josh are trying to pursue a relationship with.

His face is sickly pale and his eyes are nothing but doleful, lips chapped, and eyebrows untamed.

He's horrendous.

Brendon's attempting to regulate his breathing because its gone off the rails in such a short amount of time. He's wanting to suppress the panic building, albeit knowing it will come back later much stronger.

Why was Tyler staring at him?

What are their thoughts about him?

What if Tyler doesn't enjoy Brendon's company?

All his mind could process was Tyler, every minimal detail he knew about them and his observations.

They held more power over him than they knew.

There's a knock at the door that makes Brendon jump. "Brendon? Is everything okay?" It's Josh.

There's a decision to lie and keep everyone content or tell him the truth, because Josh has witnessed him go through something very similar before, and he'll catch on quickly anyways.

"You. . . You won't be upset if I say no, right?" He's quiet.

"Of course not." Why would he? "Can I come in?"

The bathroom is too small for two people-- the bathroom is too small for Brendon and someone else. They'd be too close together. It's too soon to get close.

"Um, no, I don't think--"

"It's okay." Josh cuts him off, knowing not to push. "Tell me what's wrong."

Brendon worries about everything, that's what's wrong. Tyler stares more than he's okay with, almost like they're ogling or simply observing every aspect of him, that's what's wrong. He's on his first date in years and he isn't sure of what to do, that's what's wrong. Brendon doesn't know if he's ready for so much commitment, _that's_ _what's_ _wrong_.

"I'm-I'm sorry for doing this again."

"Brendon, you're allowed to be nervous, I understand why you would be." Josh tells him.

His breath stutters like his heart. "What do you mean?"

There's a short pause, Brendon is throwing him into another situation again.

He feels so shitty.

"Well, you just told us you haven't been on a date in years, or even dated someone since you were a teenager; you have every right to be nervous right now." He's trying to put it in perspective for him. "We'll go at your pace. Whatever you're most comfortable with, okay?"

It shouldn't all be about him, they're part of the relationship too.

Brendon just wants them happy.

"Okay. . ." He trails off. "I don't want to a be about me, though."

Josh chuckles. "You worry too much."

As if he didn't know.

"Your pace is our pace, we're happy with whatever you're happy with." It's true, everything Josh has told him is true, so he has no reason not to trust him.

"Thank you." Brendon mumbles, Josh is too nice for his own good.

"Thank you for trying so hard with us." He replies easily. "You don't give yourself enough credit what for what you've been doing."

It's hard to believe good things about yourself, Brendon feels. He doesn't want to become conceited, because it brings out the worst in people, and Brendon will never want to be that kind of person.

"Come out now?" Josh asks.

He swallows thickly, unlocking the door before he could change his mind.

Brendon's greeted with Josh's big smile, it makes him less tense already. There's something about Josh that's so welcoming and he couldn't pinpoint what it is, but he's so glad it's there.

"I missed that face."

Brendon flushes, when does he not.

He's tempted to ask why, but doesn't let his insecurities speak for him this time around.

Tyler stands at the end of the hall, watching the two of them interact. They seem tired, it's been a long night and Brendon wouldn't blame them if they wanted to finish things up by now. Even he wanted to finish things up. It's been great being around the both of them but he could relax at home, here it was probably impossible right now.

"I think I should maybe go home," Brendon says.

Josh nods, it's understood. "Wanna take some cake with you? We won't be able to finish it."

Brendon smiles timidly. "Yeah. That would be awesome."

Josh turns to Tyler, who stops leaning against the wall and instead walks back over to the kitchen in comprehension, leaving him and Brendon alone in the dark hallway.

Josh bites his lip. "Don't be scared. They'll open up soon." He informs. How did he know it was because of Tyler? "It just takes them awhile."

Brendon thinks he might get it now.

"Okay." He wants to know more but it's such a big thing to ask. He keeps quiet after that, Josh leading him back into the kitchen. Tyler has a few slices of lemon cake in a plastic container for him, they hand it to Brendon.

"Thanks for coming over." They mumble, blinking.

"Thank you for having me." Brendon holds the cake tightly, positive he'll eat more once he gets home.

Josh walks to Tyler's side, grinning at their guest. "Thank you for the flowers. That was really nice of you." Jim comes trotting into the room, begging for Brendon's attention before he leaves. He pats his head. "You'll have to come over again soon. I think Jim is going to have attachment issues."

Brendon chuckles. "Definitely."

Josh and Tyler walk Brendon to the door. The movie is still playing in the living room, he'll have to finish it some other time.

"We'll see you," Josh opens the door for him.

"For sure." Brendon clears his throat. "Bye."

They tell him goodbye as he walks out of the house, watching to make sure he gets to his car safely, and waving before he gets inside. He waves back sheepishly, falling onto the seat once they close the door.

Heart pounding, his eyes are blown.

Brendon can't believe he just went on his first date with Tyler and Josh.


	16. Vulnerability

The retirement home has a small, local, folk band that comes in today. It's aging men with a couple guitars and soothing voices.

Brendon sits in between Carina and her mother on one of the many couches in the rotunda-like area. His best friend's arm is around his waist, head on her shoulder and eyes in a soft close as he listens to the music and nothing but the music.

It's nice.

When he first came in all Carina wanted to know was how the dinner went, she grinned so wide and would not stop pestering him.

Brendon told her he'll tell her soon, the music already started and he needed to get his mom downstairs because he knew for a fact she'd want to come see the performance. He wasn't complaining, he wanted to see it too.

The topic has been dismissed, for now.

Carina will ask again later; he's excited to tell her everything.

It's nice having a friend. It's nice having Carina.

***

Brendon tends to every need except his own.

By the time lunch came around Grace didn't want to eat with everyone, she said today she would eat inside. It's fine, he understands. He tells his mother he'll go get whatever they're serving and bring it up to her but that's not what she wants.

She wants tacos.

They aren't serving tacos, they never do.

Brendon misses lunch and drives to Jack in the Box, getting tacos with only cheese and lettuce because she wanted nothing more and nothing less. He had grown to know her like the back of his hand, he wished all his other siblings did as well.

He sometimes feels wrong for thinking that way.

They have other necessities; some with partners, some with kids, some with a _life._

Brendon's lost that, but at the same time he's not sure if he ever has had one.

All he knew is that coming to a place where the walls and floor were built of prestige and sorrow every weekend was creating someone who would never grow to be anyone.

Brendon isn't someone. He's nothing.

The closer he gets to Tyler and Josh the more he wants to spend time with them, and he can't. Weekdays were busy for them all. Brendon goes through so much shit at work and then he has no choice but to come to the retirement home and watch people limp their way through their last few days.

That's not where he wants to be.

He wants to be able to sleep in his own home on Fridays, and instead of waking up and heading to matrydom, he heads to nirvana.

Tyler and Josh are the potential of being nirvana.

If things go well, they will be.

Brendon's being prohibited, though.

Being in the retirement home the whole weekend holds him back from pursuing anything, especially their relationship.

How was he supposed to keep going if he couldn't even start?

The whole situation is very contradicting.

Brendon comes back with a bag of fast food and a head full of disconsolate thoughts, walking into his mother's room bombarded with that wretched scent and unforgiving words.

"I got your tacos." He mutters, throwing his keys onto the counter.

Grace turns to him, an easy tongue. "I don't want tacos."

_Exasperation_.

Brendon closes his eyes so tight he might never want to open them up again. Fists clenched, just like his jaw, and body flooded with heat.

He has so much to let out but he is forced to shove it back down his throat. One day he'll overflow. He's certain it will be soon, on a good day too. When everything seems right but one simple thing will trigger it all. He knows himself well.

Breathing, all it takes his breathing to keep him steady.

And control. Brendon has very little of that, though.

He needs to let it go. Grace doesn't know right from wrong anymore. She only knows what she wants and what displeases her.

She's displeasing her own son.

He missed lunch hour, where he could have spent time with Carina then. He missed one of the only hours of socialization and solace with another. He receives none from his mother, all he does is give. He makes sure she's well-fed, he makes sure to keep up with her hygiene, he makes sure she rests amiably every night so she wouldn't wake up with a crook in her neck.

Brendon does everything for her.

He gets nothing in return.

"Fuck," he releases.

A pang so heavy sits in his chest, he could fall forward.

Brendon's always falling.

He can't stand here any longer, he needs to leave again. Not for long, but long enough to recollect himself.

Tears are embedded in his water line as he walks out the door. Tears stay in the same place as he marches down the long hallway with diamond patterns on the floor and caregivers pushing wheelchairs. Tears threaten him as he knocks on someone's door with aching knuckles and a lowered head.

Tears. . . Tears fall when he sees Carina's face.

She frowns as he collapses onto her chest, bag of fast food still in hand as he hangs his arms around her limply.

Carina brings him in and sets the food down on the table, holding him closer as he weeps against a delicate shade of skin.

"Shh, shh."

Brendon shakes his head, sobbing.

Carina's mother watches the scene unfold with wide eyes, lowering down the television in hopes it would help some.

It doesn't, at least she tried.

"Bren, let's sit down, okay?" Carina whispers against his hair, pushing a strand behind his ear. He nods, standing up straight with a loud sniffle and spotted face.

She guides him to the small balcony outside for some privacy, hand in his hand as they sit down on the outdoor sofa. He immediately falls into that pitiable state, head now in her lap and fingers squeezing hers.

The birds chirp as he cries, the sparrows sing as he mourns.

It was such an awful thing to be going through, he wanted it to be fake. He wanted to be nurtured by a parent and not a friend again, he wanted the internal happiness of a child he never got to experience because life had other plans.

Brendon has never had the chance to enjoy anything.

The cake Tyler made was phenomenal and Carina's fingers running through his hair feels good, but that's not what enjoyment is.

He craved for bitterness to be disposed, he waited for bliss to appear.

It never has.

He's not sure it ever will.

Tyler and Josh, truly, are his only hope.

Brendon's lost faith in humanity, and then gains it back around them. He discovers something new every day. His mind grows beautifully like flowers in the spring, he loves that they're pushing everything he's known and are ready to give him the journey he's been anticipating for twenty-nine years.

Brendon thinks he's ready for Josh _and_ Tyler.

The occurrence makes his cheeks react naturally, not from grieving but from utter excitement.

"Carina," he mumbles.

"Yes?" She answers cautiously.

He chuckles through the pain. "I have so much to tell you."

Carina brushes away the fallen tears with the pad of her thumbs. "Are you alright telling me, though?"

Brendon closes his eyes, chest rising and falling to no rhythm in particular. He says it faintly, not meaning it in a ruthless manner. "No, not yet."

She understands. She always does.

Carina leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. It helps, no matter the simplicity of it. He takes affection for granted sometimes, only because he's scared of it. He doesn't want it to be that way; it won't help him get anywhere with the relationship he's trying to follow.

Tyler and Josh had more than enough to give, he spends every day trying to welcome it instead of running away.

***

The whole weekend, Brendon never ended up telling Carina how the dinner went.

He was too caught in his head to talk about it.

Now, he has come into work with tired eyes and loose limbs. He lays his coat onto his rolling chair and takes a seat, huffing, groaning.

Brendon slips his phone out and makes sure to put it on silent so it wouldn't disrupt the entire floor. Josh tends to message him a lot while he works, which he didn't mind all that much, but he couldn't exactly answer unless he went to the restroom or was on break.

Brendon sneaks his phone out to text him every once in a while, though.

No one notices.

Before turning it off, he swallows roughly when looking at the Tinder icon still on his homescreen.

He doesn't use it anymore, he hasn't since he got Josh and Tyler's numbers.

He should delete it.

Brendon turned off his notifications too, it was like it wasn't there in first place. He hasn't been on it, and really, doesn't want to be.

He wonders if Josh still uses his.

Shaking his head, he slides his phone into his pocket, deciding not to delete it. He will soon, especially if this relationship continues to delve further into his every day life. He wants it to, and he knows Tyler and Josh would like it to as well.

There's a tap at his shoulder which he flinches at, quickly turning around to see Ryland.

"Uh, hi," Brendon's lip twitches.

"Hey." He replies, pulling an iced caramel macchiato from the holder it was in. "Ryan and I got you this, we don't really know what you like, I hope this is okay."

Ryland reaches his arm out to hand it to Brendon, who grabs it sheepishly.

He stares at the sweet and caffeinated drink, finally diverting his attention back up to the man.

"You, you didn't have to do this."

Ryland shrugs. "Shane goes to Starbucks too much." Brendon isn't sure who that is but he won't question it. Not right now, at least. "It's the least we could do."

"Okay. . ." Brendon sets it down. "Thank you."

"No problem." He says, taking a sip of his own coffee and walking away.

Brendon can't help but sit there in disbelief, he doesn't know what's been happening lately. First, it's Debby, then Lukas, and now the other two Ryan's? It's peculiar. He's been working the same establishment for six years, so why are people suddenly so interested in him now? Before, he was only a ghost.

At the thought, Lukas pushes his chair out to look over Brendon's cubicle.

"Did I just witness what I think I just witnessed?" He asks, dubiety clear.

Brendon raises his eyebrows, nodding carefully.

"Has hell frozen over?" Luke jokes.

"Something like that."

The two go back to minding their own business, Brendon getting to enjoy a sugary drink in the midst of it.

He can't help but feel a bit uneasy; he couldn't tell if any of this is solemn or simply rational for them both. Brendon's easily the most impressionate person, and he knows people have, and still could, use it to their advantage, get on his good side for their safety.

Maybe, though, he could just be making friends.

That's a little unordinary for Brendon, but there's a beginning to everything.

The past month has been a statement piece for him.


	17. Affinity

The rain is sweet this time of morning, while the sun shines and the puddles form.

Brendon has coffee in hand as he steps out of his car, making way into the tall building he sees nearly every day of the week. He crosses his arms tightly over his chest, coat thick and scarf covering his mouth so the rain couldn't pester him too much.

January weather is odd.

He sniffles when walking inside, pulling his scarf down and taking another sip of coffee as he waits for the elevator.

Thankfully, no one comes in with him this time.

Brendon does, though, feel his phone vibrate. He knows who it is, it's the only person who texts him regularly.

He smiles, slipping his phone out to read Josh's message.

**Hey! I was wondering if you might want to grab lunch with me today. Tyler would come, but they're busy.**

**Pretty please.**

Brendon bites his cheek, sighing. He always wants to spend time with Josh, but he only gets half an hour for lunch, and it's in the breakroom. He would have to ask for a longer lunch, and stay past hours if he really wanted to go.

He does.

**I'd have to ask for a longer lunch but I'm sure I can figure out.**

**Where at?**

The elevator stops. He walks out, never looking up from his phone as he passes all the cubicles. He knows where he needs to go.

**I'm feeling Chinese.**

Brendon doesn't eat Chinese often unless he's stoned, and really craving takeout.

**We can go to that one buffet?**

**That sounds awesome.**

He doesn't care much about the food, he's just happy knowing he'll get to spend time with Josh. It hasn't even been a week but his smile is contagious, and his heart is warm. Brendon enjoys being around him.

**I'll text you in a bit. I've gotta see what time I can get.**

**Alright. I'll be here.**

He slides his phone back into his pocket, sitting his coffee down and beginning to take layers off because it's warm enough inside. He lays his coat and scarf on the back of his rolling chair.

"Morning, Brendon." Lukas says.

The latter keeps his smile. "Good morning." He sits, scooting back to see him over the wall in between their areas. "I don't think I'm going to be here for lunch today."

Lukas fake frowns. "What's tearing us apart?"

"I think I'm, uh, meeting up with someone." Brendon shifts.

This isn't bad news, not at all. The frown disappears and instead is replaced with a smirk.

"Ooh, I see." Luke does a small dance with his shoulders, playful and supportive. "I get it. I'll be fine, in the breakroom, without you, all _alone_ , eating my ramen." He lets out a dramatic sigh, the back of hand pressed against his forehead.

"I'm sorry." Brendon chuckles quietly.

"It's okay." Lukas shrugs, rolling his eyes. "Just don't make it a habit. I don't think I could last more than a day."

"I would never."

"I know." He laughs, ending the conversation there by rolling his chair back.

Brendon doesn't have to think about it much anymore, he and Luke are definitely friends. He's happy with that, too. Maybe he's not nearly as close to him as he is Carina, but it didn't matter, those kind of relationships took time.

He's just glad to have another friend.

***

Brendon is thankful for having a boss who is relatively easy-going. Yes, he is stern, which is how a boss should be, but he also is flexible.

Brendon doesn't get an hour, he gets nearly two for lunch today. 

**Meet you there at 12:15?**

He has another half hour of work before he could leave. He's having to work overtime. It's alright, he thinks. Getting to spend time with Josh will be nice after a considerably hard weekend.

**You've got it.**

Brendon bites the grin off his face, deciding to get as much in as he could before leaving.

***

At twelve, Brendon slips on his coat and wraps the scarf around his neck. He knows it's still raining outside, and he'd rather not meet Josh with soaking wet hair and uncomfortable looking clothing.

"Tell me how it goes when you come back, yeah?" Lukas says quietly as he's walking past, it's been fairly quiet today.

Brendon hesitates, but nods anyways.

He hasn't told him about Josh.

Clearing his throat, he doesn't dwell on it too hard, only heading to the elevator to leave.

By the time he's outside, he shivers. The sun is out, and so is the cold. He doesn't have coffee with him this time to keep his hands warm, he only has the speed of his legs to get him into the car faster. His hands tremble to unlock it. He lets out a huff of relief when getting inside, quickly turning the car and heat on.

Brendon warms up before backing out of the parking space.

He feels bad for leaving Lukas alone to himself for lunch, knowing full well no one else in the workplace was going to sit with him.

He's too new, he hasn't fully settled.

At the same time, though, Brendon's been working there for six years and no one had ever sat with him until this month.

It's disheartening.

He's grown so accustomed to being by himself that being with others has become unusual, naturally.

He's lost all social skills he's ever gained throughout recent years.

Brendon's hoping to change that.

The drive to the Chinese buffet isn't very long, he goes the whole ride without listening to music. He gathers his thoughts in the meantime, scarf making his neck too hot with the heater this strong.

The parking lot is almost completely empty when he pulls in, which isn't surprising.

Most people come here for dinner.

Brendon takes a deep breath before getting out of his car, composing himself. He isn't sure wether his knees feel weak from the cold or if he's feeling anxious, maybe even both.

He opens the entry door and sees a small fountain with coins in the water, he hasn't been here in so long he nearly forgot the scenery. It's nice. The lights are dim inside, the smell of food makes his stomach grumble, and it's warm.

Brendon looks up from the fountain, seeing Josh waiting inside the actual restaurant.

He pushes the next door open, Josh looks up.

They smile at one another.

"Hey." He says, tucking his phone away and standing up from the bench.

"Hey." Brendon's grin is almost cheeky. "You haven't been waiting here long, have you?"

"No, I got here just a few minutes ago." Josh assures.

Their conversation ends, they get a table. It's a booth beside a window with sun barely peaking through the blinds. More intimate than the coffee shop and definitely much more secluded, Brendon can feel his hands mimic the flustered motion of his heart.

A waitress comes to ask what they'd like to drink, which Brendon says water while Josh wanted coffee.

Brendon pulls an ugly face, nose crinkling.

"Coffee and Chinese food?" He asks once the waitress walks away.

Josh shrugs, chuckling. "I didn't get any this morning."

Coffee and Chinese food is just wrong, Brendon thinks.

"Let's get food, c'mon." He stands, Brendon scooting out of the booth slowly. They make their way to the buffet, grabbing a plate and scanning their eyes over all the food. There's more than Chinese food, there's pizza, there's jello, there's fruit.

Brendon gets a bit of everything, while Josh sticks to noodles and sushi.

He waits until he's done, watching carefully as sweat nips at the back of his neck because of the heat coming from all the food and his scarf.

Josh finishes, looking over to Brendon and nodding his head towards their table.

They'll definitely come back for seconds, he already knows. The dessert is too good to pass up.

Josh sits down, Brendon stays standing, unbuttoning his coat and unraveling his scarf before it becomes unbearable.

"Damn," Josh mutters as he takes a seat.

Brendon has puppy dog eyes. "What?"

"You look really good." He smirks.

Cheeks aflame, Brendon looks down. "O-oh." He swallows. "Thank you, uh, it's just dress code for work."

Brendon doesn't think he looks that great; he sees himself like this constantly, watching his tie lose color and shoes grow scuffs on them.

Compliments don't come regularly.

Josh's smile is more than cheeky. He takes a bite of his sushi. "How's your day been going?"

Casualty, Brendon figures he's sly.

"Just the same as every other day." He lifts his shoulders, blinking and poking at one of the grapes on his plate. "I'm glad I got to come for lunch."

"Me too." Josh takes a sip of his coffee, Brendon cringes. "It would have been shitty eating alone." He laughs.

Again, Brendon thinks of Luke.

"What's Tyler doing?"

"They're finishing a commercial."

Brendon nods, popping a grape into his mouth. He doesn't exactly understand everything a script coordinator does, but it seems really interesting. He guesses it's very time consuming, from what Josh tells him and how much Tyler works.

"They wouldn't stop talking about you after the dinner." Josh mutters, smiling into his mug.

This comes as a surprise.

"Really?" Brendon's brows furrow, then lift.

His heart takes the news more vividly, loudly, emotionally.

"Yeah." He sets his cup down. "They like you a lot."

Brendon's sheepish, smile the same.

Although taking his coat and scarf off, he's still hot. Maybe even more hot than he was before.

He almost can't believe it, he isn't sure why. He's too insecure. It's evident Josh and Tyler would like to be with him, and that's the whole reason they're trying to pursue the relationship in the first place, so why is it hard to believe Tyler does enjoy his company?

They show no expression, most of the time.

They're monotonous.

"Josh, can I ask you something?" Brendon says feebly.

"Of course, what's up?"

"Why doesn't. . . Why don't they smile around me?" He hasn't used Tyler's pronouns outloud very often, it feels different coming from his mouth.

Josh pauses momentarily from eating, biting his lip instead. He's having to think about it, deeply, and Brendon knows it's because there's a lot to it. It's clear. He wants to know, though, he wants to understand.

"There's a lot of things I shouldn't tell you, because they should." Josh admits, avoiding eye contact by looking over Brendon's shoulder. "There's so much." He breathes, running a hand through his curly hair.

Brendon frowns, he hopes he wasn't pushing.

"We've been with a lot of people. A lot. And most are just fucking assholes, really." Josh begins, finally looking into Brendon's mind. "I think they've started acting that way because they don't want to get hurt."

Brendon plays with his feet beneath the table.

"Acting like they don't care means they don't, right?" Josh quizzes.

Silence falls over them for a moment, Josh sighs, this topic must upset him a lot.

"There's more to it, I just can't tell you. They need to." He's gracious with honesty.

Tyler is divergent, in the simplest of terms. Brendon will be patient with them even if so, because they're doing the same for him.

"That's okay." He pipes up, eating more of his food. Of course it's okay, who is Brendon to judge? He's not perfect either, he has his faults, and so does Tyler, even if they're trying to ignore them completely.

"I know I already told you this, but it takes them time. They'll open up soon." Josh reassures him. "Their smile is so nice." His face is soft at the mention, rosy, even.

"I bet." Brendon mumbles.

He can't help but wish Tyler was here.

"Your smile is nice." Josh then says.

It's the second compliment, it's the second time he's flirted.

Brendon isn't used to this, his chest feels heavy in a way that has never occurred before. He hides his face into his hands, head shaking, and he embarrassingly titters.

" _Stop_ ,"

Josh laughs lightly. "I can't help myself."

Brendon is well aware, he witnesses it constantly.

"You know, I just said your smile is nice and now you're covering it up." Brendon's blood rushes, watching Josh reach for his hands. He pulls them away from his mouth, holding them as they reach the table.

His touch is delicate.

Brendon breathes out heavily, blinking, and blinking, then blinking again.

They smile together for a moment, grins slowly faltering.

Josh is resting his hand on Brendon's, brown eyes darker in a captivating way under the dim lights. It's quiet between the two of them, their heart beats roaring loud, it's like a bass drum in their ears.

They examine every feature of each other's face, the way Josh's nose is pierced with a slight bump and the fact that Brendon's lips are so full, so tempting. Josh has faint freckles, Brendon has pink cheeks.

"I'm so glad we've met you." Josh finally utters, pulling his hand away.

Brendon rubs one thumb over the other. "So am I."

Tyler wouldn't have touched his hand yet, but Josh did.

He can't help thinking about that.

Josh bites his lip, excitement overwhelms his face. He eats more sushi.

***

By the time they're finished with lunch and dessert, Brendon starts putting his coat back on. He just finished eating chocolate ice cream, the sweetness settling in on his tongue.

He's upset having to leave Josh and go back to work, he doesn't have any other choice, though.

The three of them need to make plans.

He wants to see Tyler.

He wants to see them when their walls fall down, he wants to see them when they trust Brendon, he wants to see them when they _smile_.

Josh stands up with him, they walk to the front.

"I'll pay." He says.

"Josh, you already--"

"I'll pay, Brendon." Josh insists, tall in front of the checkout.

Brendon sighs, feeling bad. Josh paid for his coffee the first time they met, too. He can pay for the both of them, so why doesn't Josh let him?

He keeps his head low until Josh is finished paying.

"Stick your hand out."

Brendon's eyebrows furrow, nonetheless, he does as told.

Josh places a fortune cookie in the palm of his hand, grinning ear to ear. Brendon chuckles. They make their way out of the restaurant and stop at the fountain, there's too many coins to count.

"Wanna make a wish?" Josh asks.

"Yeah." He's certain.

Josh hands him a penny, while holding a dime for himself. His eyes close, lips going crooked in thought, while Brendon knows exactly what he wants, he's been thinking about it since Tyler was mentioned.

He drops his coin in, Josh following afterwards.

Brendon watches it sink down to the bottom, mind at ease.

"What'd you wish for?" Josh leans in.

"It's a secret."

A wish won't come true if you tell someone.

Josh hums, him and Brendon walk outside after this, the rain much lighter than before. They stop for a moment, the both of them having something to say before departing. It's tender, in a way.

"Can we see each other again this Friday? With Tyler." He questions. He's desperate.

Josh laughs, nodding. "Definitely." He slips the fortune cookie into his pocket. "I'll text you about it later, yeah?"

Brendon is content. "Yeah."

They stand there, face to face. He licks his lips, trying to focus on something else besides the awkwardness in his stomach.

"Can I hug you?"

Brendon's Adam's apple bobs. "Yes."

Josh moves closer, carefully, pulling Brendon in by the waist. This comes as a suprise to him, his chest flushed against Josh's. Eyes blown and hands tense around his jacket, he welcomes these avid emotions, nose slowly tucking into Josh's neck.

Josh holds him tighter, Brendon breathes him in.

He smells like absolute virility, the scent shakes him.

"I'll see you on Friday, okay?" Josh whispers into the shell of his ear, fingers running through the back of Brendon's hair.

"Mhm." It's small. It's happy.

Josh snickers, breath hitting his neck. "Bye, Brendon."

"Bye." He loses his grip on Josh's jacket and backs away, smiling meekly.

They walk separate ways, the cold trailing along with him to the car.

Brendon is warm from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, internally as well. The heat at his cheeks and chest make up for the cold weather, he thinks about this as he sits inside his car.

Today is the first day in ages he's hugged anyone besides Carina. This hug wasn't from just anyone, though, it was from Josh. Josh, who smiles like tomorrow will never come and flirts so shamelessly. Josh, who tells Brendon what he needs to hear, and not wants to hear.

Josh, someone who Brendon already trusts.

It's such a scary thing to be aware of. He knows, though, that trust is exactly what Josh deserves.

Tyler too, he just hasn't gotten there with them yet.


	18. Ashamed

_Every flower blooms on its own sweet time._

Fortunes are a funny thing, Brendon thinks. He doesn't know if taking guidance from a small slip of paper in a cookie is very practical, but it's definitely interesting to see how accurate things can get.

Pathetically, he keeps the fortune tucked behind his phone case, maybe as a good luck charm, maybe false hope, he isn't sure.

When Brendon had come back from lunch, he doesn't have time to talk to Lukas, he had quite a few hours left ahead of him and he'd much rather do his job than fall behind because of slacking off to talk to a friend.

Besides, it wasn't that important, was it?

He shrugs it off, deciding to tell him tomorrow.

He was nervous thinking about it, not having told Luke about Josh nor Tyler.

How would he react?

Brendon doesn't have the courage to tell him about Tyler, that's for sure. Even the thought of telling his friend about Josh makes him uneasy.

He'll have to figure it out tomorrow, in the meantime, he's busy.

***

On Wednesday, Brendon spends the morning trying to ease down the anxiety building up. This is proven difficult; his foot taps repeatedly against the floor, cheeks get chewed raw, and his hands tremble on the mouse.

He worries too much.

He can't pinpoint where the nerves are coming from exactly. It could be the fact that Brendon just replays the whole incident with Debby in his head, or it could be the fact that he's scared to tell Lukas he's seeing a man. It could be the fact that he feels an overwhelming amount of _guilt_ knowing he won't tell him about Tyler.

When will he tell anyone?

He doesn't want to keep them a secret because of his own insecurities, and it's sad knowing that feels like the only reasonable option, though.

Brendon wants to tell people how good of a cook Tyler is, and how peculiar all their outfits are. He wants to tell people that he's only ever seen them paint their thumbs, and that they have a lot to say but keep to themself most of the time.

Yet, he doesn't.

He can't, it seems.

One emotion always overpowers the other. Terror over adoration.

It's foolish how much negativity rules over him; positivity sinks low to his toes and doesn't rise until he forces it to.

Right now, it feels impossible to force it, so when he meets Lukas in the break room, he makes sure to take the deepest breath he can to keep himself steady, ready, comfortable enough.

"You may have ditched me yesterday, but I still brought you food." Luke chuckles, popping the Cup O' Noodle in the microwave.

Brendon lips turn upwards. "Thanks."

The breakroom only has a few other coworkers inside today. Coworkers he'll certainly never talk to. They keep in one corner, on their phones, only speaking when they feel generous enough to. They're definitely the type of people he'd like to stay away from although he's admittedly done it himself with Debby.

That's a different situation, though.

Debby. . . He hasn't seen her much either, it's a good thing.

Ryan and Ryland pass by every once and awhile to say hello, she stays at her cubicle.

Things are going rather well, he'd say.

Truly, he doesn't want Debby in his life, he never has. She thinks power and seduction are the way to everyone's heart, and that's not how it works for him.

It's sick, really.

Brendon doesn't know much about building relationships, he just knows she's done it all wrong.

"Here you go," Lukas interrupts his thoughts, placing a steaming cup of noodles in front of Brendon on the table. "One for you, and one for me." He sits down in front of him.

"Thank you."

"No problem." He shrugs. "Now, I won't let you stall any longer. Tell me how it went."

It's not forceful at all, he's only curious, he's only excited.

Brendon clears his throat, knuckles looking extra sharp and pale as he reaches for the plastic fork Lukas had also brought for the two of them. He wants to eat as much as he could, delay this conversation even more, he's not that thoughtless though.

"Uhm, what do you want to know?" He is aware, just pitifully stalling.

"Well, who did you meet for lunch? Where'd you guys go? Did you have a good time?" Luke's features lift.

Brendon's eyes fall. "I met up with this, uh, this-this _guy_ I've been talking to." His heart skips a beat, scared of the reaction he'll receive.

Lukas, though, doesn't say anything, he's only looking at Brendon expectantly, waiting for him to continue. He's leaning closer, waiting, waiting, and waiting even more.

Brendon doesn't know what to think.

" _Okay_ ," he finally says.

"Okay." Brendon repeats. Lukas must not care, it's a relief.

"Well, what's his name? What's he like?"

Brendon smiles to himself. "His name's Josh." Josh, Josh, Josh, Josh, Josh. He only ever talks about Josh. "He's a photographer. He's got tattoos and a nose piercing and gauges. Really curly hair, super nice."

"Sounds cute." Luke utters before eating some noodles.

"Yeah." Brendon nods, agreeing.

"How long have you two been talking?" He asks, nosey, but friends are.

"About a month or so now." It doesn't feel like that long, it's weird. "I've met up with him a few times. I went to thei-- his house for dinner last week." He flushes a dark shade at the slip up, pulse anything but weak.

Lukas doesn't seem to catch it. Lukas doesn't know.

"Things are getting pretty serious then, hmm?" He says instead.

The only thing audible to Brendon is how loud his heart is _thump, thump, thumping._ "Yeah, yeah."

"Have any pictures?" Lukas smirks almost.

"I mean, just the ones from Tinder." He shrugs. It's a lie. He has plenty, but they all have Tyler in them. Josh has sent multiple pictures of him being obnoxious, grinning so big his eyes close, while Tyler didn't look impressed one bit.

It's amusing, in a way.

Brendon takes his phone out and opens his gallery, slightly embarrassed that he's saved the pictures.

He hesitantly hands it over to Lukas, whose eyebrows lift. Brendon takes this time to eat his food, carefully watching his friend look at the photo, praying he wouldn't swipe, the mirror picture of Josh and Tyler clear in his mind.

"Fuck, he really is cute." He mutters.

Brendon snickers quietly, taking his phone back.

He scrolls through his photos, a yearn to see them both again haunts him.

"He's a keeper."

"I think so too," Brendon mumbles, it feels so wrong. He doesn't understand the whole relationship the three of them have but he doesn't need to for him to know how fucking horrible it feels not to include Tyler. They aren't as close as he and Josh are, but he wants them to be, badly. That's all he wants right now, for things to feel right.

Maybe he wants to touch Tyler's hands too, and hug them too.

Of course he does.

Brendon can physically feel the toll this is taking on him.

He can't finish his food, he's barely eaten and he feels full. Full of guilt.

Their conversation about Josh ends, he's never been more glad. He couldn't say anything else without bile rising in his throat. He's getting sick, and he should, it's well deserved.

Lukas talks the rest of the time, getting forced smiles and small hums from Brendon along the way.

It's like that for the rest of break.

***

As soon as Brendon is home, he lets out an absolutely dreadful sound of distress, fists practically going numb by the tightness he's forcing them into. He's sharp from every edge, even his own head.

Horrible, he, is horrible.

Brendon pushes out a breath or two to relax himself, undressing hurriedly for no reason in particular except the fact that he needs to move, to distract himself, he's pissed.

His coat is strung out on the couch, his shoes are at the door, his unbuttoned shirt is on the bed, and so are his pants.

The whole apartment is a mess, still.

One day, he'll clean.

One day, maybe Tyler and Josh will come over. He'll have to then.

Brendon sighs, falling down onto his sheets and running a hand through his hair.

Being disappointed in himself isn't new, but it's also never been this bad. Tyler doesn't deserve to be thrown aside, Tyler doesn't deserve to be mistreated. They've done nothing wrong, and Brendon can't muster up enough courage to tell the people he's closest to about them because he's so afraid of being looked down upon.

He's playing it safe, is what he's doing.

Telling Carina and Lukas about Josh is easy.

Telling Carina and Lukas about Josh _and_ Tyler, though, isn't.

Brendon huffs, blindly searching for his phone in the pocket of his pants. He needs to ask about Friday.

He fixes his glasses to see the screen properly, going to messages. Quickly, he catches himself before he could click on Josh's profile. It's sad how instinctive it is.

Brendon bites his lip, clicking on Tyler's instead.

Their conversations together are very minimal, terse, depressing.

**Hey,** **did** **Josh tell** **you** **about us doing something together on Friday?**

He can only hope Tyler isn't busy. He doesn't want to bother them, but at the same time, he's been using that excuse far too much. It's getting tiring, holding off like that. He wants to talk to them, and it's hard, because he knows how much more easy-going it is to talk with their husband instead.

He's always taking the easiest route.

**Yeah.**

**He tells me everything.**

The thought makes him shiver. It doesn't suprise him, no, definitely not, he just wonders how far it goes.

**If** **you're** **not busy, do** **you** **think** **I** **can** **call? Plan** **something** **.**

Brendon is breathing heavy. Not from being upset, he's completely run down and now is dreadfully nervous. He doesn't know if Josh is there, which makes the churning in his stomach worse. It's more comfortable talking to Tyler knowing he's around, he's not sure why.

**Sure.**

Brendon nods to no one, hand trembling horribly as he presses on the call button, shakily bringing it to his ear.

He listens to ringing longer than he'd like before Tyler picks up.

"He-hello?" Brendon stutters.

"Hey," Tyler mutters, gravely, like Tyler.

Their voice strikes something sensitive within him; chest going hot, he scratches at his neck. His heart beat louder than it was in the breakroom, irritably haunting his ears.

"Um, I-I don't really plan things, so. . ."

"It's fine." Tyler says, he can hear them watching TV. "I don't think we should do anything special. I think it'd be nice for you to just come over, and we can do whatever."

It does sound nice, every time they see each other it's almost like a date, it would be a relief.

"Okay, yeah, that uh, that sounds good." Brendon's lip twitches.

He would assume Tyler's nodding in agreement. "I'll tell Josh when he gets back."

Josh isn't home. "Where is he?"

"Walking Jim." They reply, shuffling. "Actually, I think they're here, one second."

Brendon waits, anxiety slowly easing down the longer he stays on phone with Tyler. He's getting more comfortable with them, and all of them. Their voice, their stare, their thoughts. He should have done it a lone time ago, he knows.

The door opens and Jim barks excitedly, Brendon assuming he's happy to see his other owner.

"Who's on the phone?" He hears.

"Brendon." Tyler mumbles.

"Oh," Josh sounds surprised, it makes him frown. He really has been neglecting Tyler.

"I was thinking we shouldn't do anything too special, maybe have him come over and we can decide then." Tyler tells him, sounding muffled.

Brendon might actually prefer it to be more casual, going there specifically for a dinner makes him feel like they expect something from him. If he goes there just to spend some time with the two of them, he would be able to take it at his own pace, which Josh said is what they want to do for him.

"Sounds good to me." He sounds close. "I kinda just want to relax anyways."

Tyler hums. "Me too."

Brendon stays quiet, not sure if he should say goodbye or wait until someone says something to him again.

He can hear them kiss, once, twice, three times, and then Tyler whispers something he can't quite catch, but Josh definitely does. He snickers. "I need to shower, I'm all sweaty."

He audibly pulls away, they huff in response.

"Come around four on Friday." Brendon takes a moment to realize they're talking to him.

"Okay." He agrees.

"Okay. I have to go, I'll see you then." Tyler sounds rushed.

"Bye."

"Bye." They hang up, and Brendon throws his head back further into the pillow.

He wishes for it to be Friday already. Waking up in his dark room, on a small bed, getting dressed in the same clothes, and going to work, then repeating, is not what he wants to do every day. Yes, it's a lot better having Lukas there, but he also wants to see Tyler and Josh more often than he is.

He wants to know them like they know each other.

_Every flower blooms on its own_ _sweet_ _tim_ e, he reminds himself.

Brendon discards the fact that he's trusting a fortune cookie to dictate his love life.

Although being nervous as usual, he's more than excited to see Tyler and Josh again. He feels ready, and for what? He doesn't know, he only knows he wants to be around them every chance he gets.

It's great to finally feel capable of building a relationship.

In reality, he's never felt competent before.

This whole month has been a journey for him; he's managed to push himself to do things that he's always wanted. He has friends, he's beginning to pursue a relationship, and is gradually taking flirts and compliments as they come.

To Brendon, these small things are big things. He's glad he's getting to experience them.


	19. Casualty

Brendon slept in on Friday; he doesn't wake up until three in the afternoon before getting out of bed to leave for Tyler and Josh's house.

Whenever he got the chance to sleep, he did. He is constantly drained by the cycle he's in. Work during the week and his mother's retirement home during the weekends, and now recently, he has been squeezing in two other people.

He never has days to himself anymore. He hasn't for years.

Brendon can barely open his eyes as he does his hair and brushes his teeth, still tired no matter how much sleep he got.

Truthfully, he didn't mind squeezing Tyler and Josh in, what he minded is not having time for them on the weekends like he wants. It would be so much better if he didn't have to worry about which day he got to see them, because if his weekends were free, it wouldn't be a problem.

His mother needs him though, he knows this.

It's absolutely dreadful he's the only person she really has left.

Brendon sighs, leaning into the sink and washing his face with cold, cold water to wake him up.

He's excited. He should be excited.

He changes into nothing fancy, and slips his glasses on while putting in the address to their home again. He doesn't remember exactly where it is, but he's sure if his Fridays continue to be consistent, he will.

Brendon toes into his sneakers before leaving his apartment, locking the door on the way out.

Lately, it's been pretty tame around the building. The homes kicked most people out for being so disruptive and getting too many complaints, even the people beside him. He's not mad about that at all, though. They would always keep him up at night because of how thin the walls are and much of a sex drive they had.

If anything, he's thankful.

He just hopes his new neighbors aren't as bad.

Brendon gets into his car quickly, more awake now than he was, and definitely much more ready to see Tyler and Josh.

He makes sure to turn some music on for the ride there.

***

Now that the sun is still out by the time he's there, he can fully see what their house looks like. It's a light blue with a white trim, and the lawn is so green it hurts his eyes. It's nothing like Brendon's home, it's much bigger and much nicer. There's even a flower bed full of daisies. 

He gets out of the car, following the small path leading up to their door and timidly ringing the doorbell.

Again, there's barking. Instead of being worried like last time, he smiles.

It takes a moment, but soon enough Josh opens the door, just as happy. "Hey." He exclaims.

Jim comes running out to greet Brendon, tail wagging as he sniffs his shoes.

He laughs, leaning down to pet the dog who seemed more than excited to see Brendon again. He feels warm at the thought.

Finally, he looks back up at Josh. "Hey."

They're smiling at each other.

"Come in, we've just been watching TV and playing Uno." He says, chuckling and opening the door wider for him. Jim follows Brendon inside, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he does so.

As Josh closes the door, he holds Brendon's shoulder and says, "Oh, and just take your shoes off. We don't care if they stink." Which he ultimately blushes to.

He lets go of his shoulder and waits while Brendon slides his shoes off sheepishly, laying them down beside many others on the floor.

Afterwards, he and Josh walk side by side into the living room. Tyler's sitting down on the rug in front of the coffee table, one knee pulled to their chest while eating a bag of chips. They're wearing baggy, yellow, camouflage pants and a huge black t-shirt that hangs off their shoulder.

"Hey, Brendon." They mutter.

"Hi." He nods, biting his cheek.

He follows Josh's lead and sits down on the rug too, Uno cards spread out along the table.

Jim snuggles into Brendon's leg, begging for attention, and receiving it. He scratches the back of his ear, which the dog closes his eyes to pleasantly.

"He missed you." Tyler says quietly, hiding the bottom of their face behind their knee.

Brendon smiles at that. He missed him too.

He missed all three of them.

He and Josh are nearly shoulder to shoulder. He watches him gather all the cards and shuffle them while watching whatever is on the telivision. Brendon finds more interest in Tyler though, who's pulling up the neckline of their shirt because of how exposed they were.

It's no use, the sleeve falling right back down.

Their whole shoulder is hanging out, their collarbone too. 

Brendon sucks in his lip looking at the chokers on their neck, a thick velvet one and a generic one beneath it. Their Adam's apple looks restrained. 

Tyler looks his way, they meet eyes.

"Let's make brownies."

"Brownies?" Brendon questions.

They shrug. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah, me too." He hasn't eaten all day because he had been sleeping in. He wants a meal but brownies seem fine for right now.

Tyler stands, their pants so loose they have a belt on, a long one. It hangs down to their thigh and swings when they walk out of the living room.

Brendon turns to Josh for his input.

"Go, I'll be in there in a second." He nudges him slightly, still shuffling the cards. He's far too focused on what's happening in the show to get up right now. Brendon knows he most likely won't join them until the episode finishes.

He nods, biting down on his cheek again and standing, which Jim huffs to.

Brendon makes his way into the other room, hesitantly stopping at the entrance to look at all the photos hanging on the walls since he didn't get to much the last time he was here. The majority of them are of Tyler and Josh, he catches one of them at their wedding. They're both wearing matching tuxes.

He didn't know what he expected, but it also seems odd.

Brendon wouldn't guess Tyler would wear a classic tuxedo, maybe he just doesn't know them well enough yet.

He looks at another photo, there's many people in this one.

"That's Josh's family." 

Brendon jumps at Tyler's voice, turning to gauge their reaction, afraid they might be upset at him for looking around.

They don't seem to care, they never do.

Brendon looks back at the photo.

Tyler points to someone beside Josh. "That's his brother Jordan." Then points to the girls beside him. "And these are his sisters, Abigail and Ashley." Tyler's in the picture, hair grown out while Josh's is pink. Brendon's eyebrows lift. "Oh, and his dad Bill, and mom Laura."

"Josh's hair. . ." Is all he says.

Tyler licks their lips. "He used to dye it all the time. Pink, yellow, blue."

"Why'd he stop?"

They fiddle with the waistline of their pants, head tilted in thought. "He said he's too old for it now."

Brendon doesn't speak up after that, he continues to look at all the pictures. There's so many, making him fully aware of the life they have together. They're so invested in one another, they're so domestic. It makes his throat feel tight.

Tyler seems to notice his uneasiness. "C'mon, let's bake."

Brendon breathes out heavily, nodding.

They walk into the kitchen together, the oven already on to preheat. He then looks over to the table, seeing the bouquets still in the center. He can't help the tug at his lips, happy to see them good as new and not dying.

Tyler pulls out a large glass bowl and a mixer, bag of chips in hand.

Brendon notices they never grab a box of brownie mix, his eyebrows furrow. "Are we making them from scratch?"

"Yeah." They answer easily.

"Oh." He's surprised.

Tyler brings out all the ingredients, knowing Brendon wouldn't know where any of them would be. There's sugar, butter, eggs, flour, and so much more all sitting on the counter, measuring cups included. They don't say anything but their eyes gesture him over, he slowly moves until he's right beside them.

"Measure for me." Tyler says, not asks. They seem to do that a lot.

Brendon utters an okay, taking his sweater off before anything.

"Half a cup of butter." They know this off the top of their head.

He takes the lid off the butter container and scoops the amount needed into a measuring cup, dropping it all into the bowl once there's enough.

"One cup of white sugar,"

It goes like that for a bit, Tyler telling Brendon all the measurements for each ingredient and him making sure he has just that. He keeps his head low as he does so, glancing at them every so often while his hands shake. This doesn't stop until Tyler cuts in to crack the eggs.

Brendon moves to the side, watching them hold the egg at the corner of the bowl.

"Ever cracked an egg with one hand?" They inquire.

He shakes his head, knuckles going pale as he grips onto the counter harshly. Tyler hits the egg, once, twice, on the bowl, cracking it open and seeing it fall into the rest of the ingredients with no pieces of shell lingering.

They grab another egg. "Here, try." They hand it to him, switching positions.

"I don't know," Brendon mumbles.

"I taught Josh. I can teach you." Tyler assures, carefully moving behind him.

Brendon's breath hitches as Tyler holds onto the back of his hand, guiding it over to the corner of the bowl and hitting it once, twice, again. They're pressed against his backside, completely unbothered, but Brendon is so unbelievably flustered.

Josh walks into the kitchen as this is happening, biting down on his lip and sitting at the barstool, snickering slightly.

Brendon's red, and Josh's eyes are on him.

"Lift your fingers." Tyler whispers in his ear.

He does, the yolk falling with no shell. He can feel his lungs deflating the entire time.

They both stare down at it, staying body-to-body. Tyler's hand is a lot lighter than Josh's but definitely not as delicate. It's much more demanding, rough, assertive, even.

Tyler pulls away. "You did it."

Brendon blinks, and blinks again. Looking at Tyler, then to Josh. "Y-yeah." He swallows.

The latter grins, swiping his tongue across his teeth before connecting eyes with his husband. They pull up their shirt from the neckline once more, the sleeve falling, _once more_.

Brendon breath is stuttering, quietly throwing the eggshell away and washing his hands while Tyler begins mixing all the ingredients together to form a batter.

He decides to sit down.

Jim is watching Tyler from the corner of the kitchen, ears perked up at the loud noise.

Brendon is still flushed.

Josh knows how to play him well, too, he squeezes his hand momentarily beneath the countertop, which makes the reddening in his cheeks worse. Brendon hides his face in his arms, shaking his head as a response.

The two of them sit there, listening to the sound of the mixer until Tyler finally turns it off. Brendon lifts his head.

They pop off the whisks, giving one to Brendon while licking the batter off the other themself.

He observes them, seeing Tyler move their tongue along the whisk to collect all the batter. Was he supposed to be doing the same? He doesn't know. He does it anyways, though, licking up timidly and humming because of the sweet taste.

Tyler hands Josh the rest.

They spray a pan, and pour the brownie mix into it. The oven goes off at this time, indicating it was done preheating.

Brendon continues to lick the whisk clean, feeling weird. He was always told when he was younger this was bad for him because he had a chance of getting salmonella, or something along those lines.

He doesn't care right now.

"Wanna postmate something? I'm fucking starving." Josh asks.

"Postmate?" Brendon's never heard of it.

Josh places the whisk into the bowl once it's cleaned off. "Yeah, someone basically brings food to your house."

Tyler slides the pan of brownie batter into the oven and setting the time. They lean down to pet Jim, running their fingers through his coat. "I want Taco Bell."

Josh lifts an eyebrow towards Brendon.

He pulls the whisk away from his mouth. "Yeah, uh, Taco Bell sounds good."

Josh nods, pulling out his phone. "What do you want?"

Brendon hasn't been to Taco Bell in a while, he nearly forgets what's there, or what he buys. He doesn't want anything too special, because he's postive Josh will be paying, again. "Uhm, two doritos locos tacos, if that's alright."

Josh is typing, looking up at Tyler. "Babe?"

"Crunchwrap supreme." They reply.

Tyler pulls their shirt up another time. Brendon wants to tell them there's no point, he doesn't.

Once Josh finishes typing everything into his phone, he turns to Brendon. "What do you wanna do while we wait?"

He's not the person to ask. This is their home, who is he to make any decisions for them right now? He only follows their lead, happily doing whatever they'd like him do if it meant they were able to spend time together.

Brendon nervously shrugs.

"You haven't seen the whole house yet, have you?" He realizes.

"No,"

Josh stands. "Well, come on, then."

Brendon walks behind Josh, being lead into the hallway where they were last Friday, this time, though, they go through another door. It's like an office, two desks, two computers, and many post-it notes strung along one of the monitors.

"This is our computer room, since we both are usually working online." Josh informs.

There's even a dog bed in the corner for Jim.

Josh closes the door, instead walking a bit further to another one where light was shining through. A backdoor.

"And our backyard. It's not very big, but," he and Brendon step outside.

Brendon almost gasps. There's too big trees and a hammock in the middle of them, grass just as green as the front yard. He purses his lips into a smile, seeing a small firepit and a few chairs around it as well.

"We make s'mores a lot." Josh pipes up.

Brendon hasn't sat in a hammock for God knows how long, he hopes he'll be able to again soon.

He has vivid memories of cuddling against his mother's side during the summer in their old hammock, the breeze tickling his skin and the sun peaking through the branches. It was nice.

"We'll have to sit out here and make them sometime."

"Definitely." Brendon agrees.

The two of them walk back inside, heading up the stairs once they're out of the hall. Tyler's in the living room once again, watching TV with Jim at their side.

Josh points to one of the doors once they're on the second level of the house. "This is the other bathroom." He turns to the next door, opening it for Brendon to see inside. "This is our bedroom."

Brendon feels awkward looking into their room. This is where they sleep together, this is where they make love. He swallows roughly at the thought, knowing more than just that has happened in here, too.

They walk further inside.

"Oh, and you know how I told you the majority of the closet is Tyler's? Yeah, I wasn't kidding." He gestures to the opened closet, most of it being filled with clothes Brendon could never see Josh in.

"Wow. . ." He mumbles.

"There's more. It's just in the hall closet." He shakes his head, chuckling.

"They like to dress, uh," Brendon stops himself, not wanting to say something he'd regret.

"Differently? Yeah."

"Oh, I thought I was just being mean." Brendon whispers, eyes shifting downwards.

Josh titters. "They know." He tries to reassure him. "They don't care, really. They just like wearing stuff that makes them feel comfortable." His shoulders lift.

"They pull it off well." Brendon admits.

"For sure." Josh says, smirking.

They don't spend any more time in the bedroom, which he's extremely thankful for. Instead, they head back downstairs, until they're in the living room. Josh sits down on the couch beside Tyler, who immediately lays their socked feet in his lap, eyes glued to the telivision.

Josh stares up at Brendon as he continues to stand there in an uncomfortable manner.

He sighs, reaching up to grab his hand, and carefully pulling him down onto the couch until they were hip-to-hip.

"Don't be scared." Is all he says, hand resting on his knee.

Brendon exhales heavily, letting Josh's words sink in. He knows he has nothing to be afraid of around them, yet he can't help it. Tyler's curling their toes into Josh's thigh, fingers resting at the nape of his neck, gently tugging at the small curls there. Josh is leaning into their touch, and that's when Brendon notices a dark hickey that had been hiding behind his hair.

His eyes go wide, examining it subtly.

Brendon has an idea of why Tyler hung up so fast the other day, now.

He licks his lips anxiously, far too focused on Josh's touch than anything else.

Everything is so casual, like they've done this before.

Everything is so casual, like the three of them are already together.

He moves his hand towards Josh's in apprehension, turning his head towards him. Josh looks down at his lap, then back to Brendon. He smiles while connecting their hands, fingers lacing together and thumb running over his knuckles.

Brendon's heart skips a beat, grip becoming tighter.

This is okay. He wanted this.

He worries his hands might be clammy, or that Tyler might feel excluded. The thought makes his stomach ache, knowing he's already mistreated them so much.

He reminds himself that Josh wouldn't do anything to hurt them. This is _okay_.

***

They sat like that until their food came, Josh slowly pulling his hand out of Brendon's to answer the door. The brownies finished baking and Tyler had set them out to cool down a bit beforehand.

Now, though, the three of them sat around the coffee table, food in front of them and stomachs grumbling loudly.

Tyler doesn't waste time, already unwrapping their crunchwrap and taking a big bite, humming in a pleased manner. Josh is doing the same, he got nacho fries that Brendon has never seen but definitely wants to try.

Brendon sluggishly begins eating his taco.

Jim is prowling around them, trying to sneak in a bite for himself. He already knows neither Tyler nor Josh would give him anything, so he crawls behind Brendon in hopes for some food.

When looking down at those big brown eyes, he couldn't help but cave, breaking off a piece of the taco shell and secretly giving it to the dog.

Josh and Tyler don't notice.

Brendon turns back around and watches the show, pretending nothing happened.

***

After finishing all their food, they played Uno and ate the brownies, which for some reason tasted so much better than usual. Brendon guessed it was because he and Tyler made them from scratch, or maybe Tyler really is just that good in the kitchen.

He doesn't know, he doesn't care, he only eats more than he should.

"Don't eat the corner pieces." Josh warns him.

"Why?" He asks.

"Those are Tyler's." He replies, snickering.

Brendon looks to Tyler who stares at him while grabbing a corner piece. Brendon laughs, nodding.

He avoids the corners and instead settles for the middle pieces. He preferred them, anyways.

***

It's around eight when Brendon starts becoming tired. The lights are off in the living room and he has his head resting against the arm of the couch while watching TV. Josh is laying between Tyler's legs, back against their chest as they run their fingers through his curls, eyes hooded.

It's been like this for awhile.

He sighs, sitting up straighter.

He didn't necessarily want to leave, but he also wanted to be able to get a good night's rest before having to leave for his mom's in the morning.

Brendon purses his lips, reluctantly tapping on Josh's leg to grab his attention.

He hums questionably, titling his head.

"I, uh, I think I should go. I'm really busy this weekend." He says quietly.

He's busy every weekend, this isn't new.

Josh nods, he understands. He grabs the remote to pause the show and whispers something to Tyler before standing up from their hold. Brendon does the same, sluggishly walking into the entrance to slide his shoes back on.

Most lights in the house were turned off, but the kitchen light is still on to help in the dark.

Jim walks into the entrance as well, plopping down onto Brendon's feet after he had gotten his shoes on so he couldn't move. The latter chuckles, squating to give him a few good head scratches before he leaves.

"Jim is already so attached to you." Josh laughs.

"I'm already attached to him, so it works." Brendon shrugs, standing back up and shuffling his feet out from under the dog.

He looks over to Josh, who's biting his lip. "I'm already attached to you," he mutters, smiling unapologetically and pulling Brendon into a tight hug faster than he could blink. Flushed at his chest and ears, he embraces him with just the same amount of affection.

It's overwhelming to have Josh so open about his feelings, he's trying to welcome them.

Yeah, Brendon's is undoubtedly attached to him as well.

He pulls away, clearing his throat with a small enough smile.

Brendon looks behind Josh only to see Tyler watching the interaction with a crooked face.

He doesn't need to think about it to know it's right. He walks towards them, wrapping his arms around their waist and pulling them close. Close enough to where his ear presses against their chest, close enough to hear the loud beat of their heart.

Tyler might be in shock. It takes them a moment to register what's happening before they're hugging him back. Their fingers dig into his back like their chin to his shoulder, he doesn't mind, he's overjoyed.

"Thank you," Brendon whispers into their shirt.

They audibly swallow. "Yeah. Of course."

Maybe he holds onto them longer than he should. He's only trying to savor it.

He finally pulls away, looking into their eyes. He's made them blush.

"I'll see you soon." He finishes, turning around to open the door.

The look on Josh's face has proven he has nothing to worry about. Brendon's suddenly engulfed by this flourishing feeling, knowing, for once, everything is good. More than good. He's pushing himself in the direction he should have been headed a long time ago.

Josh nods, confirming. "Bye."

Brendon breathes. Free. "Bye." As he leaves, walking out of their home.

It's cold still, yet Brendon has never felt more warm.


	20. Practice

Brendon missed breakfast at the retirement home, he instead comes nearly half an hour before lunch.

Sometimes he thinks about plugging his nose before he goes into his mother's room, but that seems a little absurd and disrespectful. The smell of cinnamon spice isn't horrible, what's horrible is what the smell started meaning to him.

It's awful.

"You feeling lunch today?" He asks his mother once the time comes, sticking a hand into his back pocket absentmindedly. 

She looks up from the television, blankets bundled over her shoulders and eyes in a squint. "Mhm." she nods.

Brendon is relieved, not wanting to drive to another fast food chain again.

He helps his mother with her shoes and gets her into one of her many sweaters, making sure she kept warm. Grace had the tendency to become cold very quickly, especially when it was a chilly time of the year like now.

They head out of her room and begin making their way downstairs. There's already many people at every table, but, of course, Carina has saved a spot for the two of them.

She always does.

Grace sits down on her own once they reach the table, Brendon stays standing, though, watching Carina get up from her seat to bring him into an embrace.

It's strong. Loving. "Are you feeling any better?" She whispers.

He almost doesn't understand what she means, then he remembers what happened last weekend. It was easy enough to say he's feeling so, so much better now. The simplest of things like Josh being so prudent and then hugging Tyler made every tear from the weekend before mean nothing.

Brendon smiles. "So much better."

Carina pulls away, just as happy. "I'm so glad." They sit after this, side by side.

A worker comes by with a cart full of beverages. Brendon gets coffee, as always, his mom getting the same.

Grace and her friend have a steady conversation soon enough. Brendon had learned she's rather quiet like him nowadays, only tending to nod and hum mostly, totally in her own world.

She can't help it.

"Since you're feeling better," Carina starts, leaning into him. "Wanna tell me about the dinner you and Josh had?"

Brendon bites down on the tip of his tongue, nodding, hands tense.

"Well, uh, I learned that he has a dog." He mutters.

Carina's eyes light up. "What kind?"

Lips turning upwards, he says, "A golden retriever. His name is Jim."

She's giddy. Brendon knew how much she loves dogs. Well, animals in general. Her mom had a few cats in her room and Carina had many animals at her apartment. Guinea pigs, fish, and even a few rats. He wanted to meet them sometime, he'll have to ask.

"You need to send me pictures next time!" She exclaims.

Brendon's gaze falls, ignoring eye contact. "I actually went over there again yesterday."

Carina gasps. She is always smiling so wide. "Brendon!"

He's fighting off the grin on his face, looking back up at her, pink cheeks.

"You have to tell me what all happened." She isn't pushing, it's complete and utter excitement for her best friend.

Carina is sweeter than candy.

Brendon breathes out. "Of course."

She asks for everything, and she is convinced he tells everything. In reality, she doesn't know half of the story.

***

Once Grace finishes her food, she turns to Brendon expectantly. He knows she wants to head back upstairs to her room, and watch TV for hours until she's ready to go to bed. It's a cycle.

He sighs, drinking the rest of his coffee.

"Say goodbye." Brendon mumbles.

Grace does, soon sitting up from the table.

Carina holds his hand as he stands as well, kissing his knuckles softly. It's an affectionate departure, knowing they'll see one another soon enough at dinner. Hopefully.

She's so unbelievably supportive. She listened to every word he said about the two Fridays with Josh, asking if he felt comfortable around him, asking if he was happy, asking if he was ready for their relationship.

Brendon is ready.

After yesterday, he hasn't stopped feeling ready.

"I'll see you soon." He tells her quietly before walking off with his mother.

They pass the small memorial of one of ladies in the retirement home who had passed away this morning. There's a memorial nearly every single day. When Grace first moved in, seeing a picture of someone with _rest in_ _peace_ written beneath the frame was beyond upsetting, but after a while, it stopped phasing him.

Being moved into a retirement home was like a death sentence, he hates thinking about it.

Brendon's chest starts becoming heavy once they reach her room.

He unlocks it shakily, opening the door and walking inside after his mother.

"Can we watch Enchanted?" Grace questions.

Brendon is pretty sure it's the only movie she rememebers. If she isn't watching whatever is on telivision, she wants to watch Enchanted. She has many other movies, but Enchanted is her favorite.

He has memorized the whole movie. Even the songs.

"Sure, mom." He crouches down to grab the DVD.

He thinks about the two people who have began meaning the most to him while setting up the DVD player. He wants to watch another movie with them again, hold Josh's hand tighter, maybe even Tyler's.

Brendon clears his throat, sitting down on the couch.

They sit quietly for a while, watching the opening scene, but Grace is tugging at her sleeves.

"I'm hot." She states.

"Take your sweater off," it's simple.

As he says this, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Brendon feels less tense already, it's a good feeling knowing someone is thinking about him, especially when it's Josh.

When he slips his phone out from his pocket, though, it's not Josh. He's suprised to see Tyler's name on his screen.

**Come over on Friday. We'll make s'mores.**

Brendon sucks in his bottom lip, cheeks lifting happily. He was hoping they would ask, because he wants to see them and Josh every Friday if he could. Each week would be a step closer to one another, and that's the thought that makes his heart skip a beat.

**Okay. What time?**

Grace has slowly taken off her sweater, laying it down on the arm of the couch.

**Six.**

**Maybe** **you** **can** **stay** **over.**

He can't. He already lost his Fridays with his mother, he couldn't lose another day, no matter how much he'd rather be with Josh and Tyler.

**I can't really. I have** **things** **to do on the weekend. If** **I** **did,** **I'd** **have to leave** **really** **early in the morning anyways.**

Brendon wouldn't blame them if it seemed like he was hiding something, because he is. He's hiding his whole life, practically, to the two people he's supposed to care about most. He's not sure he'll ever feel comfortable telling them about his mother, and that's something that haunts him.

Soon enough, Josh and Tyler will ask what he does on the weekends.

Soon enough, Brendon will crumble once again.

**Let me make breakfast for you at least.**

Brendon sighs, looking over to his mom. She'll be okay. He's been late for breakfast these past couple of Saturdays, anyways.

One more wouldn't hurt.

Deep down, he knows it could, though. He's so afraid of becoming just like his siblings; he's so afraid of becoming selfish and throwing his own mother to the side, after all the years she had given up everything to keep their family happy.

That's not who he is, but what if that's who he's becoming?

He frowns to himself.

**Fine. Only because everything** **you've** **made is really good.**

**But really,** **I** **have to leave early on Saturday.**

Brendon really enjoyed all of Tyler's cooking, that was one thing he couldn't deny. He tells them it's for that reason, but really, he mostly wants to see Josh's bedhead and Tyler's morning face.

**I'm** **sure** **that's** **why.**

**Yeah,** **I'll** **see** **you** **then.**

Tyler's knows, he doesn't mind. Of course he wasn't just coming over for food.

Brendon doesn't know what else to say, he only turns his phone off and rests it against his lap, attention going right back to the movie.

Sometimes, Brendon just wants to tell someone about both Josh _and_ Tyler. Tell someone how they dress, how good of a chef they are, how deep he's having to dig to get close to them. He feels incapable, though. He surely isn't ready to confess to Carina, or Luke, and that leaves no one, really.

He looks at his mom for a moment.

Maybe he does have someone.

Brendon shakes his head to himself, he couldn't.

Why would he tell someone that wouldn't even remember instead of someone that would?

Thinking farther into it, that might just be the point.

Instead of having to worry so much about telling his friends, he could practice with his mother in order to ease into talking about the both of them. She wouldn't remember, he knows for a fact she wouldn't.

For once, her forgetting could be a good thing.

Brendon pulls his knees up, turning towards her. "Mom." 

"Yes, sweetheart?"

He doesn't know where to start, or what he's even going to say.

"Can I tell you about something?" He asks softly.

Grace nods, eyebrows pulling together.

Brendon breathes out heavily, running a hand through his hair in a nervous manner. Yeah, she might not remember, but she's going to for right now.

"I've been seeing people." He starts. "I usually see them on Fridays, and that's why I haven't been coming then, I'm sorry."

Grace places her hand on his, giving it a weak squeeze. "That's okay."

It's not, he thinks. He'll become as conceited as his siblings; ugly inside, which is much worse than the outside.

Brendon simply hums. "Their names are Tyler and Josh." He informs, saying Tyler's name outloud is a breath of fresh air. "They're married, and-and they're really nice to me."

Grace doesn't say anything, she just nods along.

This is fine.

"Tyler is really good at cooking. They've made spaghetti, and lemon cake, and brownies-- fuck. They were all so good." He closes his eyes, reminiscing on all the food. "I'll have to bring you some of their food one day."

His mother smiles. "That sounds good."

Brendon remembers about the lemon cake he took home, it was gone before he went to bed.

He wonders if they want their container back.

"I like them a lot. . ." Brendon trails off. It gets kind of confusing talking about Tyler, and then about Tyler and Josh, because for others, they probably wouldn't understand he meant he likes the both of them.

"I'm glad." Grace mutters senselessly. "What ever happened to your girlfriend Sarah?"

Brendon pulls his hand away, rolling his eyes. "I haven't seen her since high school, mom. We broke up senior year."

"Oh."

He deflates, leaning away from her, eyes boring into the telivision again.

"Yeah." He huffs.

Well, he tried.

All that matters was that he opened up, even a little bit, to someone about what has been happening behind the scenes. He knows she's probably already forgotten their names, or that he told her he'd bring her some of Tyler's food, but he tries to remind himself he's working his way up to people more important. People who will have an opinion.

Opinions frighten him, but he needs to get over it soon.

Carina needs to know about Tyler, possibly Luke as well.

They need to know Brendon is pursuing a relationship with more than one person after years of not even being with one.

They need to know he's scared of not being enough for them, or too much.

Brendon wants to be free.

Hopefully, one day, he could be, but for now, he's sick to the core.

The two of them end up watching television the rest of the day, missing dinner, and waiting until the sun went down. Once it hit a decent enough time to sleep, Grace was helped into bed and tucked in like a child. Brendon sleeps on the couch, as always, watching reruns of Family Feud only to wake up in the morning with a sore back and neck.

This was his life, always hoping for better things to come.


	21. Gloomy

Wednesday morning Brendon woke up earlier than usual, even before his alarm. He drags his feet along the floor and walks to the kitchen, stomach grumbling roughly in hunger.

His back still aches from the couch at his mother's, his mind sitting on the fine line between overwhelmed and ease.

Confessing to her-- or whatever else it could be called-- was alright. It was nice talking about Tyler, no matter how short lived it was. Their name needed to breathe, and it hadn't been able to until then. The only times he'd talk about them was with Josh, but that wasn't enough.

It's never going to be enough.

Not until he tells Carina. Not until he tells Luke.

Brendon opens the refrigerator, seeing only condiments, eggs, and lunch meat.

He sighs, reaching for the eggs.

He should have gone grocery shopping by now; all that's left in the cabinets is bread, a few more bags of ramen noodles, macaroni and cheese, and a box of white shells and cheddar.

Brendon knows he procrastinates too much. He does it with everything, from cleaning his apartment, and getting groceries, to bigger things like texting Tyler, or even telling his friends about them.

He's not proud of it, either.

Brendon wanted nothing more than to be open about his life. Confident. Tell people whatever he's thinking solely because he can.

But he doesn't. He won't, no. Not until he's comfortable, not until he understands.

He'll have to get groceries after work.

Brendon pulls out a small frying pan and butter, eggs will just have to do.

Pulling an one out, he remembers Tyler last Friday teaching him how to crack it with one hand. Reminiscing makes him blush, recalling how close they were together, hands and bodies pressed together. He clears his throat, shaking his head, and carefully hitting the egg against the pan. _Lift your fingers,_ the whisper remains hidden in the shell of his ear. He does, watching the yolk fall into the pan with no shell.

He's smiling in a small manner, proud.

The next ten minutes or so he stands at the stove with drowsy eyes and swollen lips, making himself scrambled eggs and cracking each of them with one hand, not bothering with salt or pepper.

Deciding to put everything away once finished eating, he sits down at his small, foldable table.

There is two chairs, and one person.

Two chairs, with three people who will need seats.

Brendon's home is a lot different than Tyler and Josh's. Brendon's home. . . Isn't a home. He doesn't have pictures hung up of his family, or even a telivision to entertain guests. There's no food, no seats, no room, no _love_.

There's Brendon, and what little he has.

Looking across the table, he doesn't get to see anybody.

Nothing to look at, and no one to view. He sits alone at his table, yearning for Friday to arrive already.

He's giddy to see Josh again, and especially Tyler. He can't help but feel content where they had left off. Tyler's frame was weak but their hold was strong, and it's all Brendon needed to know everything is okay, everything is good.

Everything is as good as it can be, at least.

Brendon takes his time getting ready this morning, aching, but bandaged.

***

It doesn't take long for Brendon to notice Lukas wasn't coming into work. The first half hour he thought maybe he was just late, but the longer he sat there, and the more hours that passed, he knew his friend wouldn't be here today.

He never realized until then how boring work is without him.

There might be light cascading across the entire floor, but not to him, because Lukas is the person who always brings light into the workplace.

He's never thought about it like that.

Brendon breathes, sitting up from his chair.

Going to the break room alone was intimidating, he hadn't done it in a while. He walks in without any food, because he's grown accustomed to Luke bringing him some. So, instead of eating, his spends his time texting Josh-- Carina as well-- making sure they're okay, wondering what they're doing today, being curious.

Josh has yet another photoshoot, which isn't surprising, it's his job.

Still, Brendon has never seen any of his work. He wonders if Josh will show him soon, or if he'll just have to ask.

Photography is an easy thing to be interested in, and especially if Josh is the one taking all the pictures.

Maybe Brendon's bias. He doesn't care.

***

Thankfully, work is over. The day felt like it had dragged on for too long.

Not having Luke to keep him company kept him on edge, afraid Debby might have come around to pester him, or someone would look at him longer than he was comfortable with.

It's safe to say he's more anxious than normal right now.

He hadn't noticed how much he has grown attached to Luke; it was so strange without him. Even though the only times they would ever really talk is in the breakroom, it was still nice to know he was just on the other side of him if he needed anything.

He hopes everything is alright, he thinks about this while getting into his car.

Making a grocery list might have been a good idea, but Brendon doesn't think ahead. He instead makes his way to Wal-Mart blindly, planning on grabbing the essentials.

Brendon has never been fond of grocery shopping. If anything, it might be one of his least favorite things to do. There's too many people, and most are blatantly relentless, staring, pushing, mumbling.

It's a lot.

Having people to go with was always easier. He's out of luck, though.

Once he parks and makes it inside, he grabs a cart, starting off from the back so he could make his way to the front.

He needed more things than groceries. Sundries, toilet paper, toothpaste, and so on. He first grab all of these things, keeping his head low, making sure to stay to himself.

He's purposefully avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Brendon allows his feet to do the talking, they're the most interesting thing to him right now. His heart races pathetically; it's nothing he could control.

This is probably something he should have gotten over by now, yet, it's not. If anything, it has gotten worse.

When he was younger, there would always be people to go back to once he was done shopping. Just being around his family would calm him down, but now he'd go back to an empty apartment, the only other person he could listen to would be Frank Sinatra on record.

It's not the same. He misses comfort.

He and his family used to be close, very close.

There was never a day he didn't want to be around them as a child, he'd look forward to going home after school and making dinner with his parents, playing card games with his siblings.

After awhile, though, things changed.

The disease ruined everything.

It tore all of them apart subtly, until it wasn't subtle anymore. Once their father became distant and it was only Grace, Brendon, and Mason left in the house, it was clear what had been happening.

Brendon is sure if they all stayed together, this would have been a lot easier on everyone.

Instead, he's the only one that has been continuously loyal.

He closes his eyes to breathe, nearly forgetting he still needs to grab many things.

Brendon can admit he doesn't enjoy thinking about his family life. There's too much, and somehow, too little to think about. He can't help but feel like the bigger person, satisfied knowing he's never given up on her unlike everyone else, even her own husband.

It's the least he could do; she'd done so much for him.

He doesn't forget how important cherishing family is. They're his blood, they're the people who helped him at some of his hardest moments in life. They were there, and he's incapable of letting it all go at the blink of an eye.

Sometimes, he wants to ask his siblings everything they've felt.

He wants to ask everything they're feeling, hopeful that they could potentially mend it together.

Maybe it's all a misunderstanding.

He'll never know, though, because he'll never have the guts to ask.

Brendon passes the electronics section, seeing a wall of televisions playing the same thing over and over again. It's taunting, knowing how much he bores himself, knowing how empty his livingroom is.

Another time, he might buy one.

For now, he's focused on filling the kitchen again.

There's cheese, ramen noodles, milk, frozen sausage patties, cereal, and a few others things in his cart. He decides to lay off the condiments, already having plenty at home.

Brendon suddenly thinks about Friday once again, wondering if he'd need to buy anything.

The s'mores.

He only liked smores with the cinnamon graham crackers, and he was positive Tyler and Josh didn't have them.

Yes, it's probably a picky choice, he doesn't care.

Brendon makes his way over to the cracker section, already tempted to buy snacks, because when he's high all he ever wants to eat is Cheez-Its and chips.

He quietly grabs just that, throwing them into the cart.

Then, he looks for the cinnamon graham crackers. They're on the top shelf, and his shirt lifts when he stands on his toes to reach them.

"Brendon?"

He drops the crackers, turning swiftly at the voice.

It's Luke. He smiles.

"Hey," Brendon plants himself back onto the bottoms of his feet. "Where were you today?"

It's then when he notices the state his friend is in. Eye bags prominent, and nose rubbed raw. He's being swallowed by sweaters, hood covering the majority of his face.

Luke shrugs. "I've got a cold."

He's holding a case of Seven-Ups, reaching for saltine crackers.

"Oh." Brendon frowns. "Well, it's really boring without you. . . So, uh, you should get better soon."

Luke snickers, nodding. "I'll try."

Brendon picks up the graham crackers from the floor, placing them into the cart with all his other food. He's gotten everything he needs, all that's left is to check out.

"S'mores?" Luke pipes up.

Hesitantly, he nods. "Yeah, I'm staying over at Josh's on Friday, um, we're making them."

Brendon still couldn't believe he was spending the night at their house. Sleeping where they sleep. It's odd. He hasn't stayed anywhere except his mother's since he was in school, it will be very new for him.

He just hopes he wouldn't have to sleep on the couch.

"Staying the night?" Luke raises his brows, then wiggles them with a smirk.

Red, Brendon's always red. "Oh, my god. No."

He didn't think so, at least.

Now he's nervous for Friday at the thought. It didn't seem suggestive, and Josh told him they would take it at his own pace, yet his heart is still racing rapidly at what Lukas was hinting at.

"I'm joking, Brendon." He laughs. "Calm down."

Sex is a scary thing, he'd say.

His lip shakes and his hands tremble at the thought.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry." Brendon chuckles nervously, gripping onto the shopping cart handle until his knuckles go white.

Luke dismisses the conversation when seeing the reaction Brendon has, he sniffles instead. "I'll see you on Monday, okay? I took the next few days off. Hopefully I'll be alright by then." He sighs. "This fucking sucks."

Brendon agrees. "I'll see you then." He says, pushing his cart out of the aisle. "Feel better soon."

For once, Brendon just wants to be home. He watches the worker scan all his items, hair as gray as smoke clouds and glasses resting at the tip of her nose. He wants to smoke weed, he wants things to mean so little to him.

He hates how easily frazzled he gets.

Brendon's biting down on his cheek when packing all the shopping bags inside his car.

He's tired of marijuana being the only escape he has. Medicine didn't work for him, it only made it worse. Maybe he really did need a therapy animal, because just thinking about having Jim around him makes his cheeks lift. Running his hands through his fur calmed him down, focusing on his breathing made Brendon focus on his.

He spends his time at home putting all the groceries away while stoned.

His life is dismal.


	22. Dreaming

Friday comes faster than Brendon expected. Before he knows it, he's waiting impatiently at noon, trying to decide what to do in the meantime. He finds himself in this exact situation every time Friday comes around.

If he was going to his mom's, he'd pack a bag full of everything he would need for the weekend, but he's only going to be their house for one night, and he definitely didn't want to bring a bag full of everything he needed at the retirement home to Tyler and Josh's, because they'd have questions he isn't willing to answer.

He'll come back to the apartment tomorrow morning to grab everything.

For now, he passes the time by rearranging his record collection, maybe getting a little high too.

***

Brendon leaves early once more, his excuse is to beat any traffic on the way, but truthfully, he just wants to see Josh and Tyler already. His cinnamon graham crackers sit in the passengers seat the whole ride there, he's ready to eat s'mores. It's been so long.

By the time he arrives, the sun has nearly settled once more. There's a cold breeze, but no rain, thankfully. He'll just have to keep warm by the fire.

Brendon takes a few deep breaths as he gets out of his car, crackers in hand when walking across the small path leading to their door.

This is a routine he could get used to.

His knuckles hit the door a few times, softly. Jim, of course, still picks up on this and barks immediately, his roaring voice getting closer the longer he stands there.

This time, Tyler opens the door.

"Hey," they mutter, leaning down a bit to hold Jim so he wouldn't run outside.

"Hey." Brendon smiles.

"Come in." Is all they say, walking away from the door and letting Brendon close it himself once he's inside. He watches them walk into the livingroom, deciding to follow suit after a few moments, Jim right at his side with a fast wagging tail.

"Where's Josh?" He asks when seeing his lack of presence.

Tyler's sitting crisscrossed in the corner of the couch. "Him and Jim just came back from a run. He's showering."

Brendon hums, carefully sitting down as well, leaving plenty of space between the two of them. He sees Tyler grab a notebook beside them, opening it to a certain page that seemed to have a lot written in it.

They pull out the pen tucked between the pages, hand leaning down to carry on where they had left off.

Brendon dismisses this, alternately observing them like he always does.

Tonight, they're comfortable. It makes sense. They're wearing gray sweatpants and a thin white top, which really wasn't hiding anything at all. He could see practically everything, and that thought alone makes him look away, boring his eyes into the television instead.

It's a show he's never seen, he forces himself to find interest.

He pets Jim too, who's laying beside him on the couch.

This is alright. The silence isn't dreadful. The sound of Tyler's pen working against the paper is soothing in a way, and so is the small noises Jim makes simply because he's pleased. He could also hear the shower running, which reassured him that Josh would be around soon.

Tyler pauses, looking up from their notebook momentarily, eyes glued to Brendon.

Their head tilts.

They continue writing.

Brendon purses his lips, Tyler likes to examine him a lot he's noticed.

"What are you writing about?" He questions quietly.

Tyler doesn't look up again, they're too focused. "You." They shrug.

Brendon's eyes widen. "Me?" He sounds distraught; he is. Why would they be writing about him? What's there to write about?

He hopes it's nothing bad.

"Yeah. You." They chuckle to themself, finally meeting eyes with Brendon. They look happy, and he's so not used to this. Has he finally gotten past the barriers they had built up? Is this what Josh had been talking about, or is there more?

"Oh. . . Why?"

Tyler's chest rises and falls. "Writing helps me get my mind off things. I just write whatever has been on my mind the most." They tell him easily, playing with their pen.

The realization that Tyler thinks about him the most out of everything else in their life dawns on his quickly.

"You-you think about me the most?" Brendon gulps.

Tyler shrugs, again. "Yeah."

Brendon wants to be surprised by this, but then he remembers how much he thinks of them. Constantly. All the time. Them and Josh are the only two people he ever thinks about anymore, whether he's worrying, or just happy to have them around, they're always there.

"Nice things, right?" He asks consciously.

Tyler's amused. "No. Horrible things."

Brendon knows they're kidding, he still frowns.

"Of course good things." Tyler mumbles after a moment, reassuringly.

It's at this time when their attention is led to the stairs, watching Josh come down with wet hair and clothes just as comfortable as Tyler's. Brendon feels like he might have missed something; he's in jeans and a simple t-shirt.

"Babe, we should probably--" Josh stops when seeing Brendon. He smiles. "Hey, _sorry_ , I hope Tyler gave you enough company."

Brendon then turns to Tyler, nodding.

"Definitely." He whispers, more to himself than anyone else.

There's a pause.

"Should we start the s'mores then?" Josh claps.

Tyler hums, closing their notebook after tucking the pen back in between the pages, leaving it on the couch as they stand. Brendon and Jim both follow them into the kitchen, where all the chocolate, marshmallows, roasting sticks, and so on, were laid out on the counter.

"I brought cinnamon graham crackers." Brendon pipes up.

"My favorite." Josh grabs them from out of his hand, he and Tyler holding everything they needed. "Let's go."

All three of them-- well, four, including Jim-- make their way to the backyard. The cold breeze is still strong, and so is the shivers racking up his spine.

Tyler lays everything down on the small table beside the chairs.

"I'm gonna get a sweater, I'll be right back." They usher, walking inside.

Brendon nods again, hesitantly sitting down on one of the chairs. Josh is too busy trying to start the fire to do the same, and Jim has ran off into the darkness of the lawn.

"I'm really happy you're staying over tonight." Josh grins.

"Me too," he replies. "It's really boring at my apartment." Brendon sighs.

Josh tries multiple times to light the match before it finally catches fire. He throws it into the pit, watching the flame erupt onto all the wood. Finally, he sits back as well, curls in his face.

"Speaking of," his shoulders move a bit. "When will we get to come over?"

Brendon's eyebrows furrow, shocked. "Uh, well, um, I don't know." He's thought about it, but not very much. What would they do? At their house, they have a telivision, and food, and a firepit, and Brendon has nothing. All they would be able to do is sit around his livingroom and talk. "There really isn't much we would be able to do. . . Why would you guys come over?"

Josh chuckles. "Because, Brendon, we've shown you our home. Maybe it's time you show us yours."

Brendon huffs. "I guess. . ."

"I mean, if you're not comfortable with that, it's alright, but it just seems like time." He shrugs, watching Tyler come back out with not only a sweater on, but a blanket around them too.

"I know," Brendon mutters. "I'm just not sure what we'd do, really."

"What we'd do for what?" Tyler asks while sitting down, getting comfortable.

"If you guys came over to my apartment." He answers.

"Oh," They trail off. "Well, maybe we could just have dinner. Cook for us for a change, hmm?"

Brendon chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't cook for a reason."

"I'm sure you aren't as bad as you think. Cooking is easy." It isn't helpful; Tyler's great at cooking, of course it's is easy for them.

"I guess you'll just have to come over to find out." Brendon tests, he supposed the two of them coming over could be a good thing. It will force him to clean his apartment, it will push him to cook something that isn't from a box.

Josh makes a small noise. "So when, then?"

"Next Friday." Brendon breathes, this might be too much for him.

"Next Friday, then." Josh agrees, grabbing the bag of marshmallows once it goes quiet between the three of them.

Brendon is absolutely terrified. He doesn't know what to cook, he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know how to be a host. He doesn't even have enough chairs for all of them to sit together at the table.

He's frustrated thinking about it.

"Here," Josh hands him a roasting stick with a marshmallow at the end.

Brendon tries his hardest to not worry about all of this right now, he needs to live in the moment.

So, instead, he leans further into the fire to roast his marshmallow, and keep himself warm. It's cold, too cold for his liking, and shivers make his body tense with trembles, he almost can't sit still.

"Are you cold too?" Josh asks.

Brendon looks up from the fire. "Yeah, a little." A lot.

"I'll get you a sweater." He mumbles, setting everything aside and standing.

"What? No, no, it's okay."

Josh rolls his eyes, waving him off dismissively and walking inside.

Brendon sighs, focusing on his marshmallow again. He has to make it perfect. He only would eat them if they were golden, having them burnt was disgusting.

Jim suddenly comes back with a toy in his mouth, laying down at Tyler's feet as he busies himself by chewing on it. Tyler, though, is bundled in the blanket with one arm out to roast their own marshmallow.

Brendon can't help but watch the way the fire lights up their face, eyes dark but the flame brightens them up naturally. They blink, lashes long, face appearing soft for once. It's a subtle change, and yet Brendon notices this quickly.

He kind of wants to hug them again.

Before he knows it, Josh is laying a hoodie into his lap. "It's mine, so it should fit." He says. Brendon's never exactly realize until now how thin Tyler is, but the more he looks at them, it's clear their clothes would most likely not fit him.

They're taller, but more thin than him. He and Josh are the same height, and as he slips on the hoodie, he'd say the same size.

"It looks good on you." Josh nearly snickers.

Brendon doesn't blush this time, he just smiles.

When Josh sits back down, Tyler's quick to snuggle into his shoulder. "Could you make mine?" They question him.

"Yeah." Josh takes Tyler's marshmallow and makes their s'more for them, the chocolate slowly melting once he presses the _cinnamon_ graham cracker on top.

When he hands it back, Tyler whispers a thank you and kisses his jaw. Soon after, they take a bite, moaning at the taste and licking their lips for any crumbs.

Brendon almost forgets about making his own.

"Want me to make yours too?" Josh laughs at Brendon's blank stare.

A wide smile slowly forms, he nods carefully.

"Come over here, then." He cocks his head to the side as a gesture. Brendon slowly sits up from his seat and scootches the chair until it's right beside Josh's instead of across from his.

Then, he's making Brendon's s'more just like he did Tyler's.

Jim whimpers at the lack of attention he's receiving, sitting up and staring at Tyler with wide eyes. They purse their lips at him, shoulders lifting. "You can't have any."

Jim whimpers, again.

Tyler lets out a deep breath, finishing the rest of their s'more. They pat their lap a few times, and Jim takes this chance jump up into their lap and sit down. Tyler emits a struggled groan at his weight, but soon enough gets used to it.

"Here, Brendon." Josh gives him his s'more.

Brendon thanks him, definitely not kissing him though.

Josh finally starts roasting his own marshmallow, petting Jim's head while he does so. Tyler's still leaning into his side, eyes visibly heavy. They always seem to be tired.

Brendon takes a bite of his s'more, more than pleased with the taste.

He takes another bite, and then another, oh, and another one, until it's gone.

He clears his throat, slightly embarrassed by how fast he had eaten it. Tyler definitely had noticed this too, because he can hear the airy chuckle coming from them.

"You have it all over your face." They murmur, eyes closing softly.

Now, Brendon blushes.

He licks around his lips just like Tyler did in hopes to clean up the mess.

"That didn't help much," they say, sitting up more in their seat. "Josh, give me a napkin." He does as told, handing Tyler a napkin absentmindedly, attention going right back to the fire.

Tyler gestures him to come closer.

Brendon swallows harshly, nonetheless leaning into their hand.

They begin wiping all the chocolate and marshmallow from around his mouth, concentrated on his features. Brendon can feel his heart beating faster, anything Tyler does makes him flustered. He doesn't know why.

Brendon looks into their eyes and they look into his.

They smile.

They _smile_.

There's no time to breathe, his heart misses a few beats. Brendon's body is going so unbelievably hot he feels like he might be burning. He couldn't believe it, he couldn't. Tyler's smiling at him with delicate cheeks and crooked bottom teeth.

Brendon smiles too.

Wishes really do come true.

"There you go." They whisper, biting their lip as they pull away.

Brendon can barely control his breathing; he's shocked, he's ecstatic. He's in utter disbelief. Does this mean Tyler feels comfortable around him? Does this mean he should feel comfortable around them? He didn't know, he's too caught up on the fact that they finally smiled around him, and Josh is right, their smile really is nice.

They should do it more often, he thinks.

His thoughts, though, are interrupted by Josh, who now has a s'more of his own, and is grabbing Brendon's hand heedfully.

He bends over a bit to whisper, "That was a big thing for them."

Brendon's trembling hand squeezes Josh's reassuringly. "I know."

He does know, and that's what makes it so much more important to him. It's more than just a smile; it means they're going to let him in. That's the biggest step there is to their relationship.

***

The three of them stayed outside until the fire died down, it was getting cold anyways. Brendon helps Josh and Tyler bring whatever was left inside, packing them away in the kitchen.

"We need to get out the airmatress," Tyler says to Josh, leaning against the counter.

Josh hums, nodding.

"Airmatress?" Brendon's eyebrows pull together.

"Yeah. The couch is nice, but I wouldn't want to sleep on it." They shrug.

Brendon's thankful he won't have to sleep on a couch tonight, he definitely doesn't miss that. His back is so tense from the one at the retirement home, still aching after a week. Maybe he should invest in an airmatress for when he goes to his mom's, it might just help.

"Help me clear out the livingroom." Tyler looks to Brendon momentarily before walking away.

Of course, he follows, he always does.

Tyler throws the blanket aside, as well as the sweater they had been wearing, and are now back to the thin t-shirt that might as well be invisible. Brendon tries to ignore this, but it's hard.

"Let's push the couch back, and we'll move the coffee table." Tyler guides.

Brendon fixes his glasses before helping them move the couch further back until it nears the entrance, giving the middle of the room enough space for the airmatress. Tyler slides the table to the corner, standing up straight with a huff.

Josh comes back downstairs with the mattress and pump in hand, Jim trailing behind him curiously.

"Sleeping in here is okay, right?" Tyler questions after a moment once Josh started laying out the airmatress. "I didn't think you'd want to sleep with--" 

"It's good." Brendon assures, yawning.

They all are tired, it's evident. Tyler can barely keep their eyes open, and Josh is slowly moving to get things done. Even Jim is already laying down on his chair, paws tucked underneath his chin to rest.

After the air mattress was inflated, Brendon begins taking off his shoes, getting ready for bed.

It's then, though, when he pauses, eyes wide.

"I didn't bring anything to sleep in," he groans.

Tyler and Josh don't seem nearly as worried, Josh actually snickers. "Brendon, you're wearing underwear, aren't you?"

The latter looks down at his jeans, then back up at the two of them. "Well, yeah."

Tyler seems amused again, their brows lift. "Sleep in your underwear." They say it simply, but Brendon finds this to be intimidating. He never really sleeps in his boxers, not even at his own apartment by himself. He liked to be covered.

"Okay, uhm, I guess." He says, standing up from the couch. "I'll be right back. . ." He mumbles, walking down the hall where he remembers the bathroom to be.

Maybe Brendon is nervous for the wrong reasons, he's just not sure if he feels completely comfortable being in front of them close to naked on his bottom half.

Tyler definitely didn't have a problem with it, that shirt told the whole story.

He sighs, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down his legs.

It's not that big of a deal, he tells himself. Being in his boxers around them should be the least of his worries pursuing this relationship, especially after everything he's learned about them.

He bites the inside of his cheek once standing tall in only his boxers and Josh's hoodie.

Brendon walks back out into the livingroom hesitantly.

There's a comforter on the air mattress now, as well as a blanket and pillow.

"You know you didn't have to go to the bathroom just to take off your pants, right?" Josh smiles, hair dry now, but still just as curly.

Brendon swallows, nodding.

He feels vulnerable standing in front of them like this; he smells like Josh and marshmallows, and his knees are wanting to buckle. He should lay down already.

"Is there anything else you need?" Tyler asks.

"No, it's okay."

They hum, silently grabbing their notebook from the couch while Josh is busy turning the lights in the kitchen off. "What time should we wake you up tomorrow?" Their eyes are travelling down his body carefully.

Brendon clears his throat. "Uh, around six."

He watches them lose their focus on him, instead setting an alarm on their phone.

Josh comes back into the livingroom at this time, instantly wrapping himself around Tyler. "If you need anything, just come and get us, okay?"

Brendon nods, finally sitting down on the mattress.

He sees Josh kiss the back of Tyler's neck, whispering something to them before pulling away. He looks over to Brendon. "Goodnight, Brendon." He smiles softly, tiredly.

"Goodnight," he mutters quietly.

Josh walks out of the livingroom, this time walking upstairs, leaving Tyler alone with an exhausted, not-fully-conscious Brendon.

He has now gotten comfortable, glasses off, laying on his side and looking up at Tyler who's still on their phone. He has his head pressed into the pillow, eyes blinking repeatedly to stay open for a little while longer.

Finally, Tyler slips their phone into the pocket of their sweatpants.

They turn to Jim, who's in the same state as Brendon.

"C'mon, Jim. Bed time."

Jim doesn't move, he stares at Tyler with a huff.

"Jim, bed time."

Still, he stays still. This time, closing his eyes to ignore them completely.

Brendon sees Tyler roll their eyes, turning to face him. "Is it alright if Jim sleeps down here with you?"

Brendon nods sleepily, closing his eyes longer than normal.

"Okay." They breathe, looking around the room to check if there was anything else that needed to be done before they could go to bed themself. There's nothing. "Well, goodnight. I'll see you in the morning, and we'll have breakfast."

It's that which reminded Brendon of something, he quickly reaches for Tyler's hand as they start walking away.

Tyler looks down at him, confused, hand being held.

"Tyler," he murmurs.

"Yeah?"

"I cracked an egg one-handed on my own the other day." Brendon informs, still proud of himself for such a little thing.

It takes a moment to process, but once they do, he watches their cheeks slowly lift, and Brendon gets to see them smile for the second time that night. It's everything he needed to sleep soundly.

Tonight had gone so well.

"Awesome." They whisper.

Brendon hums in agreement, closing his eyes again.

"Goodnight." They run their thumb along his knuckles before letting go of his hand, turning the light off in the livingroom. It's nearly pitch black as they walk upstairs, the only light coming through being the moon.

Jim slowly migrates onto the airmatress with Brendon, snuggling against him with heavy breaths. He runs his fingers through his fur slowly, finding solace in the warmth he's giving.

"I really like them," he mutters absentmindedly, talking about Tyler and Josh.

Jim only licks his face, Brendon laughs airily.

"I'm happy." He then states. He's talking to Jim, but it's more of a discussion with himself.

Brendon stays quiet after that. He is happy. He knows how big of a step this night was for each of them, especially Tyler, and Brendon couldn't express how grateful he is that they found it in themself to trust him with that kind of liability.

He falls asleep quickly, content knowing Tyler and Josh were just a few steps away if he needed anything.

Brendon hoped it could stay like that.


	23. Sunshine

Brendon hadn't woken up the entire night, not for the restroom nor because Jim kept moving around the airmattress to try and get comfortable. Brendon didn't even need to get Josh or Tyler for anything, because unlike the dog, he slept well. More than well.

Once the sun was up, he thought he might have heard Tyler and Josh coming down from the stairs, maybe them talking to one another softly in the kitchen, he isn't sure.

It wouldn't matter, anyways. His eyes couldn't stay open; he falls right back asleep.

***

It takes longer than it should for Brendon to process Tyler saying his name repeatedly. 

"Brendon," they whisper.

He thinks he might be dreaming. He doesn't make any move or motion to reply, comfortably snuggled into the pillow and blanket. Jim is long gone by now, he guesses he left awhile ago to visit his owners instead.

"Brendon," Tyler mumbles again.

Still, he doesn't acknowledge them.

It's not until Tyler's hand reaches his shoulder and their voice rises, " _Brendon_." Where his head finally shoots up, being shaken gently from his sleep.

"Hmm?" He moans, eyes blinking open tiredly.

"Jesus christ, I thought I was gonna have to jump on you or something." They chuckle through the nose, standing up tall and looking down at him on the bed. "It's time to get up. Breakfast is ready; French toast."

Brendon yawns, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm so fucking tired," he grumbles.

"Too bad." Tyler states, pulling the blanket away from him.

Brendon groans loudly, huddling into himself for warmth.

" _Why,_ " He's being dramatic, he knows this.

"The food's going to get cold, come on." They explain. When Brendon looks up, Tyler has their hand reaching out for him, and suddenly, he doesn't feel the need to stay in bed any longer.

He grabs onto their hand and they help him up easily, Brendon already missing the comfort of the airmatress.

Tyler's hand is better, though.

It's gone as soon as it starts, Tyler instead leading him into the kitchen, where everything smells sweet. Josh is at the counter making plates for the three of them, and Jim is at the corner of the dining room, eating away at his own breakfast.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Josh laughs as Brendon walks in sluggishly.

It's too early to blush. Brendon sighs, shaking his head. "Good morning."

"How many pieces of French toast do you want?" Josh asks.

He's too exhausted to think straight, he shrugs. "A few."

Seemingly, he understands, placing at the most, three pieces onto his plate. His hair is a mess, but a good mess, and Brendon bites off the smile on his face because he'd been waiting specifically for this.

Tyler moves away from Brendon's side and instead behind their husband, helping make plates. Their hand runs under his shirt and rubs his tailbone in soft circles, chin on his shoulder.

"Butter?" Josh questions absentmindedly.

"Yeah," Brendon mumbles.

It doesn't take much longer for plates to be finished. The three of them make their way to the table, where the two bouquets of flowers still stand, silently weeping and shedding their skin.

And unlike dinner those few weeks ago, they sit closer this time, a lot closer. Josh and Tyler are no longer sitting across from him like they had that night, they sit right beside him, close enough to see blush rise to his ears and eyes struggling to stay open.

Silence falls over them gently, not because they had nothing to say, but because they were passing the syrup around.

When Josh is handing it to Brendon, he stares at him a little longer than he probably should.

Brendon hesitantly grabs the bottle from his hand. "What. . .?"

He blinks. "I've just never seen you with your glasses off."

Brendon looks down at his plate. "Oh," he breathes. He didn't think much of it. "I'm near sighted, I just wear them all day because it's easier than taking them on and off." He shrugs, again, feeling the need to justify himself for an unknown reason.

Josh only nods, smiling.

Brendon hums, dismissing the conversation, and finally pouring a decent amount of syrup onto his food, taking his first bite.

God, Tyler never fails to amaze him.

At this thought, they ask, "Did you sleep well?"

Brendon takes a moment to chew. "Really well," he says. "Jim is nice to snuggle with." He then adds, a slight pinch of pink on his cheeks.

"So is Tyler." Josh mutters.

Brendon looks over, seeing them roll their eyes in response.

"Jim loves to cuddle." Is all they respond with, completely avoiding Josh's comment.

Brendon didn't know if Tyler had a hard time taking compliments, but they seem to ignore anything positive being said about them. He wonders if he's thinking too far into this; maybe that's just the way the two of them joke around with one another, yet he can't help but feel it isn't that.

"Shit," Tyler whispers to themself.

"What?" Josh's brows furrow.

"The coffee."

The coffee? Brendon doesn't know.

"Oh. Shit." Josh pushes his seat out and stands, walking back into the kitchen, where coffee had already been made.

Brendon watches him pour it into four mugs, which throws him off a little. He comes back around to the table, placing a mug in front of Brendon, in front of his own plate, in front of Tyler, and then the fourth mug is sat in between them.

"Why. . ." Brendon can't get it out.

Josh seems to understand, though, when does he not.

"One cup isn't enough in the morning." He states, sitting back down.

Still, Brendon seems confused.

"We usually share a second cup." Tyler pipes up.

"Oh," one cup is enough for him. He takes a sip, it's black and just black, the way he likes it, and Josh and Tyler seem to like it as well.

Brendon quickly flinches at the sound of a phone vibrating loudly on the table, slowly easing back down into his French toast. He supposed it was Tyler, because they grab it and check to see what it is.

They sigh.

"Zack said we might as well go the day before." Tyler mutters to Josh specifically.

"Would we stay with them or get a hotel?"

Tyler shakes their head, fast. "A hotel."

It goes quiet. Brendon takes this as an opportunity. "Uhm, who's Zack?"

Tyler looks up from their phone, eyes hooded. "My brother." They look back down at the screen to text. "He's getting married soon, but they live a few towns over, so we're trying to figure everything out."

Brendon notices how unenthusiastic they talk about their own family compared to Josh's.

"I didn't know you have a brother," he says.

Tyler laughs airily, maybe even sarcastically. "Yeah."

Once it was obvious Tyler was going to leave it at that, Josh finishes chewing. "They have two brothers, Zack and Jay, and a sister named Madison."

This takes Brendon by surprise.

Why isn't there any pictures of them around the house?

"Speaking of," Josh wants to switch the subject, Brendon notices the way Tyler's face is faltering. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Uh, yeah. Four." Brendon murmurs. "They all have kids-- well, my sister Kyla is pregnant. Maybe not anymore. I haven't talked to her in a while." He thinks outloud. He only ever knows anything about his sibling's lives if he checks Facebook, which he doesn't do often. "I'm the youngest."

"You're an uncle?" Tyler says into their mug.

Brendon blows air from his mouth, a strand of hair falls to his forehead. "Yeah."

"I guess I am too." They mutter, taking another bite of their food. "Zack has a daughter. Pepper. She's not even a year-old yet."

"Oh, that's cool."

Tyler's face goes crooked.

"Not really," they whisper.

Brendon frowns. "Why do you say that?"

Tyler contemplates for a moment, they let out a deep breath. "I don't really like kids."

With that being said, Josh seems engaged in the conversation again. He trails his eyes between the two of them while taking a long, long drink of his coffee, waiting for Brendon's next response.

He only let's out a noise from the back of his throat. "You don't want kids with Josh one day?" It's meek.

Tyler and Josh must have talked a lot about this before, because the way they turn to one another and speak with only their eyes answers his question. Maybe he shouldn't have asked, it's personal, and he has no right to bombard on things like that.

"It's complicated." They utter.

Josh seems unsatisfied with this, he wipes his mouth with a napkin before saying, "I want kids, but Tyler doesn't think they're going to be--"

"No. Kids are just gross. Especially babies. All they do is piss, shit, and throw up." Tyler cuts in, grumbling.

Brendon thinks he might have just started something unintentionally.

"Yeah, but then you can raise them together with the people you love--"

Brendon's eyes widen as Josh speaks, was he being brought into this now? No, no. He'd rather just observe.

Tyler doesn't seem happy. "Can we not talk about this?"

Josh clicks his tongue and bites his cheek, nodding, and focusing back to his food. Obviously, this was something the two of them disagreed on, and obviously, it upset Tyler talking about it.

"Sorry." Brendon apologizes.

Josh shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry."

He's telling Tyler, who really has lost the giddiness they had twenty minutes ago.

Jim comes around after eating everything in his bowl, practically sensing the negativity seeping from Tyler. He places a paw on their thigh and licks their elbow, hand occupied by a fork.

"It's fine, Josh." They really just want to disregard the whole thing, Brendon notices.

Brendon can feel his heart pounding, nervous that he caused a horrible uproar. He stuffs his mouth with French toast, hoping, praying, this would pass quickly.

Josh swallows. "I love you."

Tyler finally turns to look at him. "I love you, too."

They pet Jim's head, Adam's apple bobbing as they finish their breakfast.

"Was it good?" They ask Brendon after a few-- rather uncomfortable, if he may say-- minutes of silence. His plate only has syrup left, food long gone. He considers asking for another piece.

He doesn't.

"It was amazing." He smiles timidly.

"Josh helped. He's an underdog when it comes to the kitchen." He could only assume this was to pass the tension that has suddenly built up, and that was okay, just as long as it passes; he knew he wouldn't be able to deal with it for long.

Tyler gathers their plates and stands, walking over to sink wordlessly.

Jim follows, almost like moral support.

Brendon bites his lip while looking over to Josh for some sort of guidance. As if he knew, too, he mouths a terse _"Give_ _us_ _a second."_

Ultimately, that's all Brendon needed to push out his chair and quietly announce he was going to put his pants back on. He walks into the living room, grabbing his jeans that had been resting on the arm of the couch all night, and sliding into them with a huff.

He carefully sits down on the couch and very intentionally watches as Josh wrap his arms around Tyler and whisper something into the shell of their ear, which they turn off the sink and face him afterwards. It's intimate, and Brendon shouldn't be looking, but he needs reassurance that he didn't cause anything bad between the two of them.

Tyler visibly sighs, tucking their head into Josh's neck and allowing him to coat them with _I'm_ _sorry._ Well, that's all Brendon could really make out, at least.

Josh knows how to soothe them, it only makes sense. He kisses their forehead, muttering something there, and Tyler nods hastily.

It would be okay.

Josh's hand travels to their hip while Tyler pulls their head out from his neck.

They're only staring at one another for a moment before they kiss. Long, deep, slow.

Tenderly.

Brendon looks away, he's being far too invasive.

That's when Jim jumps onto the couch, stepping on Brendon's thighs and digging his paws into them painfully. He lets out a rough noise, pulling him down to cuddle instead, which Jim happily complies to. Tail wagging, tongue out, eyes wide.

Brendon could really get used to having Jim around. It was comfort, it was soft fur, it was little whimpers.

His head rests in his lap; he runs his fingers through his coat.

Suddenly, Josh is plopping down on the couch beside the two of them. Brendon doesn't look, he actually closes his eyes.

"Everything's okay, Brendon." He whispers, all knowing.

It takes a while, Brendon feels a knot in his stomach. "Are you. . . Are you sure?"

Josh chuckles. "We've been with each other for too long to let this get to us."

He nods.

Tyler's still in the kitchen cleaning up, so he decides to ask questions now before it could reach their ears. "You really aren't going to have kids then?"

Josh shakes his head, petting Jim as well.

"No. I guess it doesn't matter, really. This isn't exactly the best living environment for a kid, anyways." He shrugs, one leg over the other. "Besides, I don't want to do anything Tyler isn't comfortable with. Their happiness means the most to me."

Brendon was going to ask what he meant about the living environment situation, then he remembered why he's here, and what they exposed to him when having dinner.

Yeah, maybe it was for the best.

After a moment, Josh mutters, "You do realize if you were our boyfriend and we had a kid, it'd be yours too, right?"

Brendon's eyes widen, so big he probably looked like a cartoon.

"O-oh. Oh." What else is there to say?

"Having three parents would probably be _really_ fucking confusing. So, it's okay." Josh leans his head onto Brendon's shoulder distractedly.

Brendon gulps, nerves nearly overflowing.

"Jim is our baby boy, anyways." Josh declares.

"The only baby we need." Tyler cuts in, sitting down onto Josh's lap instead of the couch when coming into the room.

"Mhm." Josh kisses their back through the t-shirt.

It only takes a moment before Tyler looks down at Brendon, asking, "When are you planning on heading out? It's almost seven."

Shit, he thinks.

Breakfast starts at eight at the retirement home, he'd have to leave very soon if he wanted to take his mom downstairs to eat, since he still had to go home and get everything packed.

"I guess I should now. . ." He murmurs.

Josh lifts his head from his shoulder when Brendon stands up carefully, Jim letting out a huff of annoyance at the loss.

He slips on his shoes, not bothering to untie them only to tie them again. His phone had been in his back pocket the entire night, and still, he doesn't bother to check it, knowing full well no one had tried to reach out to him.

The only people who do are in the same room as him.

Besides, he'll see Carina soon.

"Do you want me to help?" He questions, pointing to the airmatress.

Tyler shakes their head. "We've got it."

"Okay," he breathes, slipping on his glasses after all this time. He can see Josh's bed head a lot more clearly.

"I think you're forgetting something." Josh chuckles, head resting on Tyler's shoulder just barely. When he sees Brendon's brows furrow in a confused manner, he smiles. "My hoodie."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He clears his throat, pulling it over his head hurriedly.

His shirt lifts up with it, exposing his happy trail and love handles. Brendon is quick to pull it back down although he knew Tyler and Josh both had seen it all. The red on his cheeks rises to his ears.

"Here you go. . ." He hands the hoodie back to Josh, swallowing thickly.

Tyler gets up from Josh's lap after this, the three of them silently walking over to the entry because it's undoubtedly becoming a routine to depart this way. Every Friday had been becoming a routine, and now, maybe Saturdays too.

And just as silently, not only Josh, but Tyler as well, hug him goodbye. Brendon's in between the both of them with a racing heart and trembling hands.

"I think it's safe to say you should stay over more often." Josh laughs airily.

Brendon can feel Tyler nodding against the back of his head. He can't help but notice they're always behind him, which really just makes him go even hotter. Always pressed up on him, always so close, always--

"See you next Friday, at your apartment." Josh tells.

"Mhm," he chokes out.

"Goodbye." He then says, Tyler staying quiet. It doesn't suprise him.

"Goodbye." Brendon whispers shakily, the two of them pulling away and setting him free for the day. "See you. . . See you Friday." His lips wobble into an anxiety-wracked smile. He was absolutely terrified.

He reaches for the door and slips out without looking back, maybe it was impolite, maybe Brendon just needed some time to think.

He hopes it was okay he never finished his coffee, he might just make them some in return when they do come over. An apology? Or is he simply overthinking it.

Brendon's sigh is so heavy when he makes it inside his car he's suprised it didn't cause a natural disaster. Actually, he's probably the natural disaster. He sits on that the whole fifteen minutes-- well, twenty, with traffic-- home.

Unlocking the door and exposing the mess his home has come to be, the ruckus begins in his stomach again. This had to be fixed in less than a week. All the clutter on the table and counters, all the trash along the couch, even the weed at his bedside table.

Fuck, was this going to be harder than he thought.

For now, though, he gets ready for another couple of days in the afterlife.

At least, that's what it seemed to be.


	24. Mess

Saturday and Sunday went as smoothly as they could. It was slightly disappointing going from Tyler and Josh's house to the retirement home. Well, not slightly, it was just horribly dissapointing. It's the little things like Josh or Tyler not being able to tell him random things like they would when he'd be over. It's the little things like Jim not being able to snuggle him when he felt off.

The little things were becoming big, and fast, too.

His mother wouldn't comfort him fully if he needed it, she'd glance his way and say "everything will be okay, honey." Maybe that's true, but when his mind is racing and his chest feels like it's falling in on him, it's not enough.

He can't help but remember how well Josh did helping him through times of need.

Especially now, getting to enjoy things for awhile, only to flee from them was starting to really damage Brendon in a way that was foreign to him. Every second he spends in the retirement home, it's another second thinking about how much better it would be to have Tyler and Josh around.

It used to be that he had nothing to look forward to, and being with his mother was just something he'd do during the weekends, but now that he has something, something so, so _good_ , waiting for him when he leaves, it's tearing him apart.

The time spent at the retirement home turns into guilt and regret.

The time spent at Tyler and Josh's house is filled with solace and acceptance.

To Brendon, there's no place he'd rather be.

Still, though, he sits beside his mother in her room and complies when she asks for anything, because she needs him more than he needs anyone, right?

He's fallen into a cycle that he feels incapable of fixing, and all he does is complain about it.

Brendon feels horrible, and even then, he feels selfish to think so.

***

Monday, Brendon's alone at work once more. He assumed Luke was still sick-- even though he said he'd be back by Monday-- which meant no one sits across him at lunch. He eats his bagel by himself, sipping on coffee he made in a rush, and texting Josh. 

It's really eye-opening how much you rely on someone when they're gone, it has also made him realize he still doesn't have Luke's number.

This seems to be a common theme when it comes to Brendon.

He isn't able to check up on him even if he wanted to.

He could only hope he was doing well.

When someone sits beside him, and another sits in front of him, that's when Brendon slowly lifts his head from his phone, wearily looking to his left and seeing Ryland, then looking forward, and seeing Ryan.

He turns his phone off. "Uh, hey."

"Mind if we sit here? Debby's not in today, and I guess Luke isn't either, huh?" Ryan mutters, taking the lid off the container to his sandwich.

Brendon smiles carefully, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, um, that'd be fine." He says, although the pounding in his heart and the churning in his stomach says otherwise. He completely ignores the subliminal pleas to say no. Even if it's sad to admit, he could use company right now.

The two get comfortable, Ryland taking a long sip of his coconut LaCroix.

"Where is he? Luke." He asks.

Brendon bites his lip, trying to ease his way into the casualty of this. "He has a cold."

He knew if Debby was here, they wouldn't be sitting with him today. Or any day. But, she's gone, and he supposed the barrier is as well.

This will have to do.

"I guess its been going around." Ryland shrugs, pouring ranch onto his salad. "My boyfriend's been sick, too."

Brendon pauses from taking a bite of his food, eyes widening. "Your-your boyfriend?" He gulps. He wasn't sure why this is so surprising to him, yet it is. It's immediate shock, but immediate comfort.

Ryland chuckles from the reaction. "Yeah. Shane."

Brendon blinks, once, twice. "Oh. I just didn't know you're, uh,"

"Gay?" He finishes for him.

Brendon bites his cheek, curling his toes. "Yeah. . ."

It's quiet for moment.

Truthfully, Brendon wasn't certain of his own sexuality. He's never exactly had limits, because anyone is enough for him. Maybe it's pathetic not knowing himself well enough. Having a label doesn't seem that important to him though. If he's attracted to a person, then he's attracted to a person.

He likes men, he likes women. He likes. . . Tyler.

What would that even be?

Ryland's eyes shift. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

Brendon shakes his head quickly. "No, no. Not at all. Did it seem that way? I'm sorry. I was just-- I was just surprised."

As a response, there's a small laugh. "It's okay." He reassures. "Well, yeah, Shane and I have been together for almost two years."

Brendon smiles in a small manner. "That's awesome."

Ryan scoffs. "So not awesome. I have to hear about everything, and I mean _everything_."

Ryland gasps, reaching across the table to swat his arm. "Ryan!"

He snickers, continuing to eat his bologna sandwich with a smirk pulling at his cheeks. Their dynamic is clear. It's playful, it's loving. Brendon hasn't had a relationship like that since high school, with his ex-girlfriend. Sarah.

Sometimes, he still misses her after all these years.

He'd never say that aloud, though.

He hasn't spoken to her in so long, but really, it's probably for the best. He was so unbelievably attached to her, and when they spilt up, it also split his heart.

It was hard for Brendon to become casual with someone. It was hard for Brendon to trust someone. With Sarah, though, it came naturally. She took care of him, and he took care of her. They took care of each other, and weren't afraid to share their thoughts. That's what any great relationship should be like, anyways. It was such a good thing, and of course, all good things end.

When she got accepted to her dream college, while Brendon stayed local, they both knew it'd never work out. 

They are the type of people that need physical contact, physical love, physical validation. It'd never, never work, and when they both came to that conclusion, they spent countless days trying to end things on a positive note.

They did, of course they did. They loved each other.

He hopes she's doing her best, because it's what she deserves.

There's no doubt about that.

"Anyways, speaking of relationships." Ryland continues with a sigh. "How are things going with, well, whoever started this whole mess between you and Debby." He chuckles almost awkwardly.

It feels okay to say, "Josh. His name is Josh."

Ryland and Ryan both look suprised.

"So you're gay too?" Ryland questions.

Brendon purses his lips. "Um, no. Not really." 

"Oh." They say in unison. Neither of them push after that, seeming too cautious to go further.

"Are you two a thing?" Ryan asks instead.

Brendon wants to laugh, full of happiness, but also so much fucking dread. "I guess you can say that. We're not, uh, we aren't official or anything. Just. . . Getting to know each other before anything really happens."

He's only trying to will himself to open up to Tyler and Josh. Expose himself. Not a big deal, no, not at all.

"Hey, that's really cool." Ryan smiles. "Honestly, I wish my relationships went like that. It's usually just one and done." He snickers momentarily before inhaling, then casting his eyes downwards.

Brendon clears his throat. "Yeah, it's been really nice. He's really nice."

He trails off, but small upturns on everyone's lips stay put. 

Ryland takes another sip of his drink, grinning around the lid.

"Shane and I started off really slow too, and now look where we are." He pauses, maybe for a dramatic effect, or maybe to gather his thoughts. "He's the best thing that has ever happened to me--"

"Hey! What about me?" Ryan cuts in.

Ryland rolls his eyes, passive. "I really hope you can experience it too. It's so fucking amazing, Brendon."

The latter's mind spins with so many thoughts; plagued with sickness but cured by affection. It's funny how life has been unraveling. He has friends, he even has love interests. Two. Not just one. Two people who have decided he's worthy, when he himself can't do the same. Brendon has never felt more torn between feeling lucky, and feeling overwhelmed.

It's all so much, and at the same time, has broadened every horizon.

He shifts in the seat, readjusting his glasses. "Thank you, thank you, really. That-that means so much to me." 

Ryland places a hand on his shoulder, gently enough to be a feather. "You're a really good person. I'm sorry Debby caused so much shit, I really am."

Brendon's heart beat picks up at his touch. "It's. . . It's okay. It will pass."

He doesn't believe himself, but he hopes Ryland and Ryan find some sort of sincerity in his voice.

All he felt capable of doing is pray that the tension between he and Debby _would_ pass, because her welcoming him instead of casting him dirty looks throughout the day would definitely benefit the both of them.

Brendon isn't sure whether he'd like them to be friends again, or just on good terms.

He'll figure it out. One way or another.

After a moment, Ryland says, "God, I hope so." And pulls his hand away.

The three of them sit together for the rest of their lunch break, conversation seemingly steady and pleasant. Ryan and Ryland are nice to be around, not because it reassures him that Debby's own friends were on his side, but because they're completely different than what he's used to. It isn't a bad thing, at all. In fact, Brendon feels his heart relax the more personal every sentence becomes.

For once, being social isn't menacing.

For once, he doesn't hesitate to express his feelings towards something, because he knows the two of them would accept it.

***

On Tuesday, Debby's back at work and Brendon sits alone, Ryan and Ryland sneaking him small smiles when they see him during the day, and by Wednesday, Luke is finally back in his cubicle.

"D'you miss me?" He teases as he takes a seat in front of Brendon in the breakroom.

"Maybe a little." Brendon grins.

Lukas slides a Cup 'O Noodle to his friend, handing him a fork to go along with it. He's still sniffling slightly, but all around is looking much better than he did the last time Brendon saw him. He's thankful.

"Now you know how it feels." He jokes, referring to the time Brendon left to eat lunch with Josh.

The latter rolls his eyes, still smiling big and wide; overcome with happiness to finally have Luke back.

"It sucked." He mutters, blowing on his noodles. "Ryan and Ryland did sit with me on Monday, though."

Luke seems incredibly suprised by this, sitting back to let it register that yes, Brendon is getting closer to friends of a person who has completely destroyed him. "Wow," he breathes. "Hell really _has_ frozen over."

Brendon purses his lips. "They're. . . They're not that bad-- they're not like her."

Always defensive. Always trying too hard.

Luke nods. "I believe you. If that's really the case, I just don't understand why they hang around someone like her." He shakes his head in aggravation. "She's such a fucking cu--"

"Yeah. Yeah. I know."

There's a pause between the two of them, Luke decides to speak up. "So, what'd you guys talk about?"

Brendon finishes chewing his food.

"Uh, Ryland was mostly just talking about his boyfriend." Brendon's eyebrows furrow. "Did you know he's gay?"

Luke has to look him deep in the eyes to realize he was genuinely asking him, not detecting a single smidge of sarcasm in his voice. He cackles, loud, amused. " _Dude_." He laughs even more. "You didn't know? It's so obvious."

Brendon sinks further into his seat. He's so oblivious.

"Hm," he lets out, soon clearing his throat. "Well, uh, anyways, they asked me if I was seeing anyone, and I told them about Josh."

Eyebrows raised, Luke takes a sip of his water. "You told them about Josh?"

Brendon shrugs. "Yeah." He trials off before continuing. "Does that seem alright? I-I've only ever told you and my other friend, Carina."

Luke smiles, shaking his head with a mouth full of ramen. He swallows. "Why are you asking me that? It's your decision, Brendon. You tell them whatever you feel comfortable with, and if that's Josh, then that's Josh."

The eldest hums. "Yeah. You're right."

Telling people about himself is so uncommon for him, he'd tell Carina and he'd try to tell his mother, but as of lately, there's more people to tell; more people to confess to, if he wanted. Lukas, and now Ryan and Ryland. It is baffling how quickly he's building relationships.

It's unlike him.

"Speaking of Josh," Luke starts, smirking. "How'd s'mores go?"

Brendon hums again. "It was really good. I had to leave early in the morning on Saturday, but it was nice to spend time with the-- him." Once again, he slips. He's not sure how much longer he can keep everything a secret, not only because of messing up, but because the aching in his chest.

Tyler's name needs to breathe.

And still, Luke doesn't seem to notice.

"I'm really glad you had a good time, even if I was dying in my bed." He titters.

"Yeah, me too." He murmurs, suddenly getting sidetracked when remembering Josh and Tyler were coming over on Friday and he still had yet to clean his horribly messy apartment. "I'm glad you're feeling better." 

"Me too, man. Me too. It was all bad." He shakes his head. "I had used tissues literally covering my bed, it was so gross."

At the thought, Luke sniffles.

Brendon, on the other hand, stays silent. Biting his cheek instead of food now, worry building up quickly. He only has so much more time to clean, to figure everything out, to make sure his home is as perfect as it could be for the two people he's starting to cherish more than anyone else. 

In less than two days, they're going to witness it all.

Brendon's heart is sinking.

"Hey, are you okay?" Luke catches onto this fast.

Brendon frowns, staring at his hands while he fiddles with them.

"Josh is. . . Josh is coming over to my apartment on Friday. I haven't had anyone over in ages. It's a mess, and I-- and I still need to clean, but I keep procrastinating, and oh my God." He gulps visibly. "I'm scared of what he'll think. He lives in such a nice neighborhood, and his house is so fucking nice too, and my place is such a dump compared to his." Brendon shakes his head, hands now running through his hair and tugging harshly at the strands, willingly letting Luke see him panic.

Lukas stays calm, it's a nice contrast to Brendon's state.

"Brendon, I can understand why you're worrying, but the truth is, if he really does want to be with you, he wouldn't even blink an eye." He says, nodding along as he goes. "The whole point of building a relationship with someone is to accept them, and if Josh doesn't accept that maybe you don't live as well as him, well. . . Well _fuck_ him, okay?"

Brendon doesn't respond.

"Okay?" Lukas asks one more time.

It takes a moment, but Brendon nods as well. "Okay."

And maybe it would really be okay. That's all he wanted out of Friday, that's all he wanted out of this entire relationship.

***

After work on Thursday, Brendon decides it's finally time to clean his apartment. The livingroom, dining space, kitchen, bathroom, and even his own room. Surely the three of them wouldn't go in there; he chooses to clean it for himself.

He changes into clothes that are more comfortable than his current attire, and starts with his bedroom.

The mess of this room specifically started when he didn't feel the need to throw dirty clothes into the basket anymore, and was too unmotivated to put away his clean clothes. Dirty clothes on the floor, clean clothes laying on top of his dresser.

Nearly there, but not close enough.

There's also trash covering the bedside table: beer bottles, chip bags, candy wrappers, useless papers.

Looking around, Brendon is completely ashamed of how he's become. It's preposterous. 

He clears his throat to dismiss this settling feeling, beginning to fold clean clothes and he doesn't stop until everything is laid out on his bed, organized by socks and underwear, then pants, and finally shirts.

Once they're all stored into his dresser, he then tosses all the dirty items of clothing into the basket beside his record player stand.

The only times the basket was even used was if he was headed to the laundromat.

It would be a lot simpler to already have everything ready to go, but Brendon supposed he wasn't so simple.

Definitely not.

After the floor was clean from clothes, he grabs a trashbag from beneath the kitchen sink and piles all of the junk from his bedside table into the bag.

In just a few swipes, the mess is gone.

Looking around his room, he deems it good enough and then begins cleaning the bathroom.

It's not until he reaches the livingroom when things start to spiral, and quickly at that.

It's fine for a while, isn't it always? He stores all his shoes scattered around the floor into a small bin in the corner of the room, and hangs his sweaters and jackets elsewhere. He lays a soft blanket on the back of the couch and disposes of all the wrappers along the arms of it.

Then, he has to clean his coffee table.

It's just as unorganized as everything else in this apartment, including himself.

He tosses most things into the trashbag he's been holding for a while now, but his throat quickly starts to feel tighter when his eyes come across the narrow orange container full of weed, and right beside it, a wax pen.

He takes a moment to force out a trembling breath, dropping the trashbag and instead grabbing the container and pen.

Brendon stands up with a lump in his throat, rushing into his bedroom and storing them under some of the clothes in his dresser.

He's paranoid, always.

There was no way Tyler or Josh would find it, and it was reassuring, but that _what if_ still stands. It's shoved down his throat and fed to him for desert, and all he could do was say thank you.

When would he tell them, though?

Eventually, he'd have to. And, he'd like to do it on himself instead of the two of them finding out on their own.

But the question is, will he? Will he have the courage to just be honest for once instead of feeling sorry for himself and holding back? Will he finally open up to the two people who have given him nothing but their hearts?

There's too many factors to his worry.

Brendon tries multiple times to swallow the hurt building up, physically and mentally, but it feels impossible. There's a type of ache like no other resting at his chest, and it's not helping how much his heart races.

It becomes surreal what's happening, and Brendon does nothing. He feels incapable.

He tries to continue cleaning, he can delay this. 

His jaw tightens, his throat only closes more.

The feeling of guilt is stronger than anything, even love. Negativity is stronger than anything, in the long run. Brendon's hands begin to shake too much to do a simple task, now. He can't even wash the fucking dishes. 

There's nothing worse than feeling unable.

Maybe that's why every secret he holds is another blow to his stomach. Josh and Tyler are supposed to be the people he trusts, and yet he can't trust himself, either. He feels pitiable. Always and forever. He doesn't deserve a single thing; he doesn't deserve anything Josh and Tyler have to offer. What's the point if he doesn't do it in return?

He's contemptible and selfish. He's disgusting.

Brendon bites at the back of his hand. He deserves pain of any form. He deserves the way the cabinet digs into his back uncomfortably as he slides down to the floor, and how badly his chest hurts in the moment.

It shocking how anyone could find him desirable. The only thing they should desire is to never see him again.

A disgrace to the human name, and an ignominy to be seen around.

Brendon bites down harder onto his hand, tasting the salt of his tears as the slide down his cheeks.

Every struggle is so earned it's agonizing. Every day he spends awake is another second waiting for the the next catastrophe to come.

This is Brendon. This is pain. This is heartbreak.

He finally lets go of his skin, teeth marks red and white. Teeth marks appropriate and suitable.

Brendon whimpers into his knees, the storm has come full blast. Unfailingly. He truly is Mother Nature in a questioning state of man, in a derogitary term for queer. He rocks back and forth and forth and back, eyes closed so tightly he thought he might be able to hear the lack of colors he sees.

This is normal, which is the worst part of everything. Brendon thought he might have been able to hold it back this time, but he forgets he can't control the way his body handles things.

Hysteria is violent, Brendon learned at a young age.

Losing whatever self-confidence he had ever built up happened fast. Right before his eyes. He didn't feel like himself anymore. He felt alienated. He felt insane.

He _feels_ alienated and insane.

Brendon's embarrased to be himself; he just wished he could trade with someone sometimes, but he'd never want to put that kind of pain on anyone, no matter how wrong they had done him.

He's stuck. Stuck where there's no escape.

His own mind is terrifying.

Brendon thinks that's why he has a hard time letting anyone in. Tyler and Josh shouldn't have to witness it, yet they're volunteering to do so. Why? What have they found worthy in him?

Two people have made a fatal flaw in logic when it comes to him, he'd say. That's the only thing that could possibly make sense to him.

Two people like them don't need to endure in seeing the state he and his own home is in. Maybe Friday was a bad decision, he doesn't know why he agreed to any of this. He'd never be prepared, he'd constantly let himself down until he's immune.

Brendon bites his lip while sniffling, shakily sliding his phone from out of the pocket of his sweatpants.

He can't do this.

He never could.

Bredon lets out a loud cry when pressing on Josh's contact to call him. He brings his phone to his ear, using his other hand to repeatedly wipe away tears. They just keep coming.

The ringing sounds distant when it comes to the heart beat in his ears, it takes a few times before Josh picks up.

"Brendon? What's up?"

The latter pushes out a deep breath, it stutters, full of sorrow. "I-I can't do Friday."

It takes a moment, Josh has to process everything quickly. "What's wrong?"

Brendon practically mewls, rocking faster and shaking his head. His pulse is just as sporadic. "I can't do it. I'm so, so sor-sorry. It's-- I can't." He sobs, it's too much for him, and it's probably too much for Josh, too. He feels horrible for this to happen again. It shouldn't be Josh's problem that he can't control himself.

Tyler must be there as well, because Josh is mumbling something inaudible to someone.

"Take a few deep breaths for me, okay? I can't hear you that well." He replies.

Brendon ignores this, crying harder.

He still doesn't know what he would even cook for them, or what they'd do if they came over. There's not enough seats for the three of them to sit down and have dinner, and Brendon doesn't have enough time or patience to fix any of the problems.

There's shuffling through the line. "Hey, Brendon."

It's Tyler. Tone soft and not so dull for once, his heart skips a beat.

He swallows. "Hey," his voice cracks.

"Do you think you can tell me what's bothering you? I know we can figure this out." They whisper the last part. Reassuring him, maybe with some hesitance.

Brendon has to will himself to confess, and still, he doesn't know exactly what he should say. There's so much. Too much. But since Tyler is asking, it means more to him. Honesty does.

"I'm so. . . I'm so scared for tomorrow. I don't think I ca-can do it." He frowns to himself.

Tyler pauses momentarily. "What are you scared about? You've come to our house plenty of times, and its gone really well, don't you think it will go the same way?" The telivision plays in the background while they speak, reminding Brendon of something he's lacking.

"There's nothing to do at my apartment. And-and-and I don't even have three chairs so we'd have to sit on the couch to eat. Tyler, I don't want you guys to see. . . To see everything. It's so bad. I'm sorry." Brendon sniffles again, tears falling silently now.

He tries to believe what Luke said yesterday about Josh-- in this case, now, Josh and Tyler-- accepting him for who he is, it's difficult.

Brendon, himself, doesn't like who he is.

"That stuff doesn't matter. We aren't coming over to judge everything you have, we're coming over to spend time with you, Brendon." Tyler tells him, like it's obvious. It probably is. "Josh and I don't care whether you have enough seats for the three of us or not, we don't care if you don't have a TV. It's not important. It's nice to just talk, sometimes."

Brendon realizes how much Tyler is talking to him right now, it makes him go hot. He's so used to them being quiet. He's so used to the observing.

He nods. "Yeah."

"Do you trust me when I say that? That it doesn't matter what little you have. We're going to have a good time." Tyler's quickly becoming snow during a heat wave.

Brendon closes his eyes again, eyelashes clumped together. "Yes. I. . . I trust you."

They both let out a sigh of relief in sync.

Tyler says, "Good. Because I really want to see you again."

Brendon imagines them smiling, and that's what makes the ache in his chest turn into something a little more beautiful. Coming closer and closer to something.

"I really want to see you, too." Brendon bites his cheek afterwards.

Tyler chuckles airily. "We'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

They're asking more for Brendon than Josh and them. Making sure he would be okay if they still came over tomorrow for dinner, despite Brendon not having any sense of direction.

"Okay." He mutters.

"See you then."

"See you then." Brendon says, Adam's apple bobbing.

Once Tyler ends the call, he feels alright. Not well, and not horrible. It will have to do, because he's led by hope for a brighter day. His hands still shake and his head still spins, but his breathing has come to a steady enough pace, and so has his heart beat.

It takes a while until he finally stands back up from the floor, he has to find a rhythm again, but soon enough he's silently cleaning the rest of the house.

Everything would be okay, Tyler said it would.

He cleans until he's comfortable with the outcome, until he doesn't feel so ashamed to live in the apartment. He cleans until his hands and arms ache, until he's _satisfied_.

Unsurprisingly, he sleeps well that night. He'd been drained since he came back from work, but cleaning and then falling into a terrible state of mind didn't help either. His conscience, though, had been cleared, speaking about his worries and making sure his home was clean helped so much.

Maybe, he should do it more often.

Living in self-hatred wasn't doing him any good, no matter how much he'd tried to ignore it.


	25. Honesty

Brendon searched through his cabinets as soon as he could will himself out of bed the next morning. He had to make sure he was ready for tonight. He had to make sure he knew what he would be making for dinner; and after a long search and only coming up with few ingredients despite having gone grocery shopping just last week, he decides to make spaghetti.

Yes, Tyler made it the first time he came over, but it's really the only thing he has to make, _and_ it's one of the only things he's good at making.

It works as well as it can.

By three, it's when he starts feeling anxious again.

He tries to remind himself everything would be okay, because Tyler said so, and he feels alright putting trust in them. Still, though, it's not enough to calm him down. Tyler can't predict the future-- no matter how wonderful that would be-- they can only hope for the best. Brendon knows that's what he does himself in any situation, but hope seems to be failing him now.

It's not long before he's sitting outside on one of the old benches in front of the apartment complex, taking long hits of his wax pen, and watching a moving truck pull up.

Brendon, as per usual, observes.

Once the truck is parked, a woman with blonde hair pulled into a pony tail and a loose-fitting white tank top comes from the driver's side.

She goes around the truck and lifts the back end, a big smile pulling at her cheeks.

He's confused for a moment, but that's before seeing a little boy stand at the end of the truck, reaching out for her with grabby hands and a smile just as wide as hers.

Almost instinctively, Brendon takes one last hit before tucking his pen away in his sweater pocket.

These must be the new neighbors.

The woman holds the boy at her side, bouncing him up and down a few times before looking up at someone else, who hops down onto the cement. It's a man who seems about her age, Brendon guessed they're in their early twenties.

They seem like friends more than lovers, she's thanking him.

He loses focus fast, not bothered. They seemed nice enough, but really, anything was nicer than his old neighbors.

It's then when his phone vibrates, reminding him of why he was out here clearing his head in the first place.

Strangely, it isn't surprising this time to see Tyler's name instead of Josh's.

**Hey. When** **should** **we come over?**

Brendon looks at the time, frowning when he realizes he's been out here for nearly an hour. It didn't feel that long, no, not at all. Maybe his reoccurring thoughts consume him more than he'd like to admit.

**Six would be good.**

**It** **will** **give me time to cook.**

It's been a while since he's made an actual meal, and not one with directions from a box. He's afraid of messing up something as simple as spaghetti, but he needs to fucking deal with bumps in the road.

**Okay.** **See** **you then.**

**Send your address, yeah?**

He does, and afterwards, slips his phone back into the pocket of his jeans.

It takes a moment before Brendon finally notices the small feet in front of him. He slowly but surely lifts his head up from his lap, the little boy looking at him with big brown eyes. He smiles at Brendon, playing with his fingers and shuffling his feet.

The two of them stare at one another momentarily. It's temptation, but hesitance.

"Do you live here?" The youngest asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

Brendon bites his cheek, nodding. "Yeah, I do."

The boy nods with him, mutually. "My momma and I are moving in. She says our house was too much money." He shrugs.

Brendon doesn't know what to say. He's trying to ignore the fact that he's stoned out of his mind in front of a child, and that it's weird how his mom isn't there to introduce the two of them.

Then, it dawns on him he's probably ran off.

He sits up a little straighter, forcing himself to collect his thoughts. Brendon clears his throat. "Uh, maybe you should go back over there with her."

He gets a shaking head in response. "I don't wanna listen to the grown up stuff."

"Well, your mom's probably gonna be scared when she realizes you're not there." Brendon can barely comprehend anything coming from his mouth; he's mindlessly trying to make sense of himself. The boy, though, seems to understand what he's trying to get at.

"Okay." He mutters. Looking over his shoulder at his mother, who seems to notice his lack of presence. He, still, doesn't make a move.

He turns back to Brendon instead. "You should say hi. I wanna make friends here. Do you have any kids like me?"

"No, I don't. Sorry." Brendon mumbles, watching the woman practically jog over to them. It's understandable.

She crouches down to her son's height and pulls him to her chest. "What are you doing?" She sighs, running a tense hand through his hair. "Don't just run off, bub."

"Sorry, Momma." He says against her skin. "I wanted to say hi."

She nods, cradling his head and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Brendon, though appreciating the sincere love, sits there awkwardly, eyes hooded, mentality foggy. 

The woman notices the off atmosphere. She stands back up, gently holding the boy's shoulders while looking down at Brendon, grinning ear to ear. She's charming.

"Hey. Sorry if he was bothering you." She ushers.

Brendon's quick to shake his head. "It's fine."

The woman nods. "Uh, well, I'm Hayley, and this is Jack." She looks down at her son, eyes gleaming just at the thought. "We're moving into apartment twelve."

Pretending to be sober has never Brendon's strong suit, and still, he tries his hardest to put on an act. "Yeah, you're beside me. I'm eleven. And Brendon." He pauses, brows furrowing. "My name's Brendon, not. . . Not eleven."

Hayley giggles. It's soft. "I assumed so." She hums. "It's nice to meet you Brendon. I suppose we'll be seeing you around?"

Brendon swallows thickly, mouth dry. "Yeah."

"Awesome." She murmurs wholeheartedly. 

When silence falls over them, Hayley looks over at the moving truck, the man who remains unnamed pulling out a few boxes. She purses her lips together and messes with the metal bracelets on her wrist.

"We've still got a long day ahead of us. This is our third round." She chuckles, trying to mask how tired she is. "I guess we should get going. Say goodbye, Jack."

Jack frowns for a moment but nonetheless waves a departure, brown hair falling in his face. "Bye bye!"

Brendon can't help but think about Tyler in this situation. He doesn't understand how they can find this disgusting. Here's a kid full of affection and smiles, full of kindness and love, yet they claim to see the negative side of this.

He doesn't get it, he's not sure if he will.

"Bye, Jack." He smiles lazily. "And bye, Hayley." 

She grabs her son's hand, waving along as well. "Bye." She says with a smile that hasn't faded, carefully turning around and walking back towards the moving truck.

The simplicity of each word was solely because of the marijuana in his system, Brendon knows as soon as he's sober his mind will be running about the little boy and his mother. If it was just him, and no drug copilot, that conversation wouldn't have gone as smoothly as it did. At all. He would have been flustered at the first word, his hands would have began shaking violently, and his chest would have gone heavy.

But, for now, he doesn't care-- not at all. He carefully stands up from the bench and makes his way inside instead of forcing himself to worry.

He takes his time going up the stairs, seemingly not able to go any faster, and by the time he's inside his apartment, he already starts pulling everything out to make dinner.

Brendon had to put a lot of trust in himself to ensure the food would come out well, no matter how sluggishly he was making it. He never forgot who he was cooking for; he _needed_ this to be as good as it could. 

This was a first impression, this was a test.

Maybe it's foolish trying so hard on something so little, he just wanted Tyler and Josh to be as content as they can.

There's too much ahead of them.

***

Brendon isn't the only one who seems to come early to things, because by five-forty, he gets a phone call from Tyler. He's finished making the spaghetti by now, and sweat lightly matts his forehead as he answers the phone.

"You never gave us your apartment number." Is how they answer.

Brendon blinks.

"Oh, uh, are you guys here?" Anxiety. Complete and utter anxiety washes through him in just seconds.

"Yeah. I think we took someone's parking space." They mutter. "Oops."

It's amusing, but Brendon can't find it in himself to smile like he might of. He's keeping his phone steady by holding it in between his shoulder and ear, slipping his sweater back on in a rush.

His hands are trembling. It's starting.

"O-okay, um, I'll be out there in just a second." He stutters out, the pounding in his chest loud and clear.

"Okay." Tyler replies easily. Brendon's about to hang up until he hears them continue after a long few seconds of silence between the two of them. "Hey, calm down, okay? It's all going to be alright."

Brendon forces out a deep breath, closing his eyes gently to focus on doing so, even a little bit. He processes Tyler's words through and through until they settle in his heart; he believes it, he has to. It's the only thing he's willing to do that wouldn't leave him being a complete mess right now.

"Yeah. Thank you." He nods to himself. "I'll be right out."

Then, he hangs up.

Brendon swallows thickly when he leaves his apartment, walking down the hall and stairs with a horrid churning in his stomach. This is it. He's exposing so much in such a small space. He's letting them in, literally and metaphorically.

When he makes it outside, Hayley is still there clearing out the truck. He chooses to ignore this, ignore the thoughts, too bothered with other people.

He doesn't see Tyler and Josh until they emerge from their car, Tyler coming from the driver's seat and Josh coming from the passenger's.

Brendon's heart skips an unusually long beat, he's morbidly overwhelmed.

"One, two, three." He's whispering to himself. "One, two, three."

He walks towards the two of them in a march after this, unapologetically and abruptly burrowing himself into Tyler's shoulder and wrapping his arms around them tightly. He just wanted them close, he wanted them there, he wanted their support. He exhales deeply against their shirt, eyes closing as they hold him back. They sense every ounce of insecurity in him, and instead of asking why, they stay silent and follow. Giving him what he needs without the vocal support to do so.

Tyler lets him stay like that for as long as he'd like, which is a lot longer than casualty insisted.

"Fuck," he grumbles against their shoulder. "Fuck. Okay." He pulls away, meeting their eyes momentarily before looking over at Josh.

He smiles, almost sadly. Probably sadly. Brendon's a wreck.

"Are you ready. . .?" He asks sheepishly.

"Are you?" Josh replies.

Brendon nods, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater. "Yeah."

He glances over to the moving truck again, and Hayley is looking right back. Observing. Questioning. Wondering.

He clears his throat, turning away. "Okay." He says, and the three of them silently make their way to his apartment, up the stairs and through the hall. Apartment twelve is wide open when they're finally in front of his home, maybe it always was and he was too out of it to notice.

Jack, too, catches a glimpse of Brendon through the door and smiles big, waving excitedly.

Brendon smiles in a small manner in return, wave not as sparatic, but meek.

The interaction is over quickly, nerves getting the best of him when his hand meets the doorknob.

Tyler and Josh both don't rush him, no matter how simple it may seem, no matter how put up they are with all the stalling. They stand there, going at his pace as promised, and Brendon looks to them briefly for reassurance before opening the door. 

"I cleaned all of yesterday, I-I hope it looks nice." He murmurs, holding the door for them to walk in.

Once they do, Tyler looks around a bit, features nearly amused which throws Brendon off. He closes the door.

Josh seems to notice this and speaks up for them, or something like that. "It looks like our old apartment."

"Really?" Brendon asks.

He nods, smiling. "The layout is like, the exact same." 

Brendon hums, eyes shifting downwards, mind running. He feels horrible, inside and out. He'd rather be torn to pieces than deal with the immense intimidation and judgement happening before him. He wants to puke.

"God, I'm sorry." He shakes his head disapprovingly. "Do you wanna, uh, do you wanna eat?"

They both nod, eyes wandering around still. They take in every corner, every room, every piece of furniture, every blank wall. They take in it all, and Brendon can't say anything because he did the exact same thing the first time he went inside their home.

Josh and Tyler follow him into the kitchen.

"What d'you make?"

Brendon looks over to Josh, pursing his lips. "Spaghetti."

Tyler seems interested in the conversation now, ripping their eyes away from examining the apartment and instead looking towards Brendon. "Was this an undeclared war I don't know about?" They're smirking, hands stuffed into the pockets of their pants.

Once again, they're wearing rather oversized pants. In black, their whole outfit consists of that color. Those boots from day one making another appearance, and they have chains dangling from their studded belt. Brendon's Adam's apple bobs the more he notices every detail they've added; they're wearing a short shirt that might as well be classified as a crop-top, with a long sleeved fishnet shirt underneath. It doesn't hide much-- most of their shirts don't. He can see their bellybutton. More than just that.

Brendon blinks a few times, finally meeting their eyes. He decides to try his hardest to play off the nerves. "Maybe." He shrugs.

Josh's eyebrows raise. "Does this mean I make the official decision on which is better? 'Cause I. . . I don't know if I can handle that."

"Handle what?" Tyler questions.

"Well, I mean, aren't I biased? You're my husband."

Tyler squints their eyes at him. "No, be honest. Now I want to know."

Brendon quietly, with wide eyes, makes plates for everyone.

What has he started? Maybe making spaghetti was a bad decision. Tyler and Josh are talking to one another, going back and forth, and he's too focused on the task at hand to pay attention, though.

"Is bottled water okay? Uh, that's all I really have." Brendon mutters.

They both nod, they're in sync.

When Brendon quietly asks for them to grab a plate, Josh mumbles a, "I don't know Tyler, this looks really fucking good." Which, unsurprisingly, Tyler rolls their eyes to.

"Eat it." Is all they say.

"God, let me sit down or something first." Josh chuckles, turning to Brendon for guidance.

It takes him a moment to realize he's hosting, he's in charge, he makes the decisions. _He_ shows them around tonight, and so that's what he does, bringing them to the livingroom which is really only a few steps from the kitchen.

The three of them have to figure out how to sit on a small sofa that really is only used to fitting one person.

Brendon sits in the right corner, tucking himself as far away as he can because he's so used to doing that, while Tyler and Josh are sitting easy, allowing themselves to get comfortable.

They make do, everyone touching knees, it's fine.

Tyler throws one leg over the other, turning to Josh expectantly.

"Stop staring at me." Josh laughs, twirling spaghetti around his fork. They don't cooperate; if anything, their stare gets more intense.

Josh shrugs in defeat, opening up wide and stuffing in a mouthful of pasta, so much to the point where he has to chew with his mouth open a few times because he really did just eat _that_ much.

"You're so gross," Tyler whispers jokingly. Brendon's lips twitch.

"Shh." Josh emits, lifting his finger to silence them.

"What are you--"

"Tyler, be quiet, I need to configure my official statement." He mumbles, closing his eyes and licking his lips. Now, Brendon is biting his bottom lip to refrain from smiling like an idiot.

Tyler huffs, but nonetheless keeps quiet with a small chuckle to fall from their mouth. They sit back and finally eat some of the food for themself, seemingly pleased but don't speak up about it. It's enough for Brendon.

Soon, Josh is nodding to himself, opening his eyes back up and turning to the two of them. "Okay."

"Okay?"

He nods again. "I have decided. . ." He pauses, and Brendon is now certain that this time, it's for dramatic effect. "Tyler needs to step up their game." He announces, smirking so mischievously that it makes Brendon's heart thump in a fitful manner.

Tyler pauses, and turns to face forward in order to process everything.

After a moment, they shrug, nodding as well. "I agree." They say. "This is really good, Brendon."

If he thought his heart thumped sporadically before, gosh, was he wrong. Having Tyler look over at him with what could only be classified as muddled admiration made his heart go crazy, as well as his cheeks. He heats up as soon as the words come from their mouth, going red all the way to his ears.

He smiles timidly, then not so much. "Yours is really good too, I-I'd say better."

Tyler shakes their head, and Josh says, "Hey, I make the official decision, Brendon."

The latter rolls his eyes with a huge grin and rosy cheeks. "I'm just _saying_." He cocks his head a bit playfully, the sound of his heart like heavy music in his ears.

"And I'm just _saying_ , yours is better." Josh snickers as Tyler gives him the side eye.

Silence falls over them for a moment, and so do the nerves once again. No matter how much Josh or Tyler might distract him with something humorous, it lingers. Anxiety. Trepidation of something horrid happening. The chance of disaster will always get the best of Brendon, and all he does is cower into the corner of his sofa, shoving forkfulls of spaghetti into his mouth so he couldn't say anything dense.

He holds himself back from so much.

"You really don't have a TV," Josh speaks up, it makes sense.

Brendon pulls one knee to his chest, licking any excess from his lips. His mouth goes crooked. "Yeah."

"Do you ever plan on getting one?" He asks. Why is he so focused on this?

"Um, maybe soon. I don't know. . . I'm not home that often, but when I am I'm just super bore--"

"Oh my _god_." Tyler cuts the both of them off from their conversation, throwing their head back in distress. "Can we please talk about it? It's so bad."

Brendon furrows his eyebrows, terrified to question what they mean.

"What are you talking about?" Josh seems just as confused as Brendon, it's only reassuring enough.

Tyler shakes their head, amused again. They chuckle quietly to themself, saying, "You know exactly what I mean, Josh." Then they're turning to look at Brendon deeply. He crumbles at just the look, at their words. What has he done that he's unaware of? He can feel himself slipping, fast.

Tyler's looking at him, and Brendon's looking at them.

"Do you smoke pot?" They deadpan.

If only Brendon knew beforehand how much one question could make his entire body feel suffocated in a _mere second_.

"Tyler. . ." Josh is practically scolding them.

Brendon has to set his plate down on the coffee table, now both knees are pulled to his chest. He needs to ground himself before anything so he can process this. It's so fast, everything happens so fast, and Tyler can tell quickly that maybe being abrupt was probably not the correct way to go about this. Brendon's huddled into his knees, arms wrapped tightly around them like a shield from the world. His breathing gets heavy, labored, scared. He gets scared.

Brendon shakes his head repeatedly, eyes wide. Wide out of absolutely dreadful shock.

"Brendon, I'm sorry. . ." Tyler whispers.

"I-I. . ." He can't get it out. Weights are laid on him from every angle, it feels like. "Why did you-- what-what makes you think that?"

Tyler is quiet for a moment, they sigh. "As soon as we walked in I could smell it."

Brendon laughs bitterly, he hadn't even thought about that. He thought he was being so careful, when in reality, he's practically basking in the smell of something he's been trying to hold off talking about for too long.

Brendon huffs in defeat. "I do. I do smoke weed." He confesses, his chest feels heavy enough to impale his heart. It seems like has. "It's not that I-- it's medical."

He lifts his head once more, revealing how distraught he's become over this, shamefully. He can't help but imagine how this one conversation could ruin what they had built up for well over a month.

Tyler and Josh both are looking at him, waiting, wanting him to continue.

Brendon slaps a hand over his face, rubbing the sorrow from his eyes. He shakes his head again. "I have. . ." He sighs, fucking frustrated. "I have GAD." Tyler and Josh both seemed suprised, but not completely grasping it. "It's an anxiety disorder. And-and I have social anxiety too." He mutters, embarrassed, really.

He's full of problems, full of mistakes. Tyler and Josh seem like Gods greatest gifts compared to him.

The stillness between the three of them makes Brendon's head spin.

He's made a mistake having them come over.

"That. . . Makes a lot of sense." Tyler finally says, practically finished with their spaghetti. Josh too.

Brendon frowns. "What does that mean?"

Tyler shrugs, setting their plate down next to Brendon's. "I don't mean that in a rude way. I just mean, you're a lot more timid than most people. And maybe that's good, because I'm. . . Not. If it isn't obvious by now." It's very obvious by now, Brendon wants to say, but his mind is too focused on other things to expose that. "I'm sorry for bringing that up. You should have told us when you were ready."

Then, Josh asks, "When were you going to tell us?"

Brendon stays quiet for a while after that, guilty. Always guilty. "I don't know. . . I-I thought I would have the balls to say it eventually. I thought I would have the balls to say a lot of things, eventually."

The final statement is his subconscious speaking for him, it's all just one big mistake.

Josh's stare becomes more concerned. "What do you mean?"

Brendon shakes his head, turning forward and placing his chin onto his knees to ignore both of their eyes on him. "Nothing."

"Brendon,"

He doesn't budge. He can't.

"I don't like talking about myself. Why can't-- why can't you guys talk about something?" He's already told them so much more than he's willing to, he doesn't want to go any further.

"Like what?" Josh asks.

Brendon lifts his shoulders, exhaling headfully. "I don't know."

"Well, what do you want to know?" He'd like to know everything. He'd like to know how the two of them met, who proposed, how they came to the conclusion they were interested in having a relationship that included more than just themselves, when Tyler figured out they were non-binary, maybe why their family isn't as prioritized as Josh's.

Brendon bites his lip. "A lot."

Tyler looks down at him, and says, "Ask away."

It's too much, though. He stands instead. "Can we play cards or something if I do? I just, this is a lot."

"If that makes it more comfortable for you, then yeah. That's fine." They side-smile, all lip and cheek.

Brendon nods as a response, shuffling into his room to go through the drawer beside his bed. He hadn't played with this stack of cards in forever, and really, if he played cards during each confession, it could help him cope with whatever it might be. The panic. The nerves. The anxiety. He needed to do something hands on; it calmed him down.

He doesn't forget to take off his sweater, he's too hot to be wearing it in the first place and he almost forgot his wax pen had been sitting in his pocket the entire time.

Brendon's all over the place.

After finding the cards, he makes his way back into the livingroom, seeing how both Josh and Tyler's plates are free from food, while Brendon's barely touch his.

He's not hungry anymore, anyways.

"Let me clean up real quick." He mutters to them, placing the box of cards down on the coffee table and stacking everyone's plates together, making his way into the kitchen.

He scrapes all his leftover food into the pot of spaghetti and cleans their plates, savoring this short time alone as much as he can. He's trying to ignore the fact that he wholeheartedly just told Tyler and Josh his biggest insecurity, his biggest flaw, his biggest _secret_. It might seem like nothing, but to Brendon, it's everything. It's what controls his actions every day, it's what makes him so afraid to do simple things.

It is everything. And now they know.

Once he finishes scrubbing the plates longer than he probably needed to, he comes back into the room and sees that Tyler and Josh have already settled on the floor right beside the coffee table, Tyler's thigh resting on top of Josh's, while Josh has an arm around their waist and is rubbing soft circles into their exposed happy trail.

Brendon clears his throat, never one to be controlled by temptation but Tyler and Josh are masters at pushing past every layer he holds.

He sits, close, or maybe not far enough.

"What are we gonna play?" Josh mumbles questionably.

"Slap Jack." Brendon answers. "Is that alright?"

Tyler nods, content with Josh's hand rubbing at their stomach but also to reassure Brendon that it's more than good.

"Tyler and I get very into card games. Well, games in general." Josh informs, watching Brendon shuffle the deck easily. He's done this one too many times. "You have been warned." He chuckles at himself, eyes gleaming and Brendon can't help but smile a bit.

"I should be warning you." He says.

Josh raises his eyebrows. "Now I'm a little scared."

Brendon only chuckles and passes everyone their cards, pushing his glasses up so they wouldn't fall if he made any fast movements.

Before they begin, Josh moves his arm away from Tyler's waist and instead uses both his hands for putting down his cards. Tyler doesn't seem to mind, they do the same.

Now, they start playing, going around in a oddly shaped triangle.

"Are you going to ask us questions?" Tyler finally speaks up while placing a card down.

Brendon nods, but not before he's slapping the deck of cards that had built up when he sees Josh placed down a Jack. He grins widely when adding them to his own stack, this was going to be a breeze for him.

"Uh, okay." He murmurs afterwards. "I don't really know what to ask. . ." It's untrue. He has so many things to ask, but he doesn't know what's acceptable and what's not.

"Anything." Tyler reminds.

The two of them seem to be very open, which is helpful, but also nervewracking.

Brendon purses his lips. "I, I really want know how you guys met." He says, placing a card down. "I mean, Josh told a little, but not that much."

Josh's face immediately erupts with a cheeky expression, before he's snickering quietly to himself. Tyler gives him this look, this _look_ , a warning that isn't very clear to Brendon, but it also makes his heart beat a bit faster.

"I swear to god, Josh." They whisper, shaking their head and continuing the game.

"I guess we have to tell him now, hmm?" He's smirking, nudging their shoulder with his.

Tyler shakes their head, a blush meeting their cheeks, quickly.

Josh though, seems entertained, he turns to face Brendon again. "So, while I was in college--"

"We met at a fucking frat party, how romantic." Tyler cuts in, paranoid that Josh would expose something else about them, and Brendon has no idea what it could possibly be, or if he really wanted to know.

Brendon tilts his head a tad. "I never went to any of those."

Tyler shrugs. "I only went to a few. It's not really my kind of scene."

"Then why'd you go?" He wonders.

Josh slaps the stack, which takes them both by surprise. They dismiss this, Tyler continuing with a bit of hesitance. "You know,"

Brendon really doesn't.

Tyler sighs, putting a card down. "I had a lot of sex when I was in college." They state blatantly.

"Oh," Brendon breathes, hands becoming shaky unannounced.

"You still fucking do." Josh says.

Tyler rolls their eyes, ignoring him to the best of their ability. "Next question." Is all they mutter, focusing on the game instead of their husband's horribly mischievous look beside them.

Brendon's too caught up at what they just said. "Uhm, who. . . who proposed?"

Josh pushes air from his mouth, making a _pfffft_ kind of noise. "Me. Jesus. If Tyler would have proposed, we would still only be dating." He murmurs, shaking his head at the thought.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't think I'd ever get married." Tyler answers, lifting their shoulders. "If Josh wouldn't have proposed, I definitely wasn't going to. I couldn't even imagine someone ever thinking I'd be the one to marry." They chuckle a bit, not because of joy, more so because it's mildly depressing.

Brendon frowns, mostly because he's in that state of mind right now.

"I'm happy now, though. Really happy." They ensure.

Brendon is about to say something in response but instead slaps the Jack when he sees Tyler placing it down, hitting their hand in the long run. He apologizes, the two of them chuckle together.

Once he has the cards tucked into his own, he suddenly asks, "How's Jim?"

Tyler and Josh both smile. Heartwarming.

"He misses you." Josh tells him.

Brendon smiles, too.

"He's my favorite." He announces, his absence affecting him profoundly.

"You seem to be his favorite too, which hurts my feels a little bit, since he's _our dog_." Josh laughs, carefully examining the stack as everyone places their cards down.

Brendon curls his toes. "Don't be jealous."

He and Josh meet eyes, they're always so warm and inviting. Brendon isn't sure he'll ever get over them. "I'm not. You deserve all the love he has to give." He says, the sincerity clear.

Brendon blushes again. " _Stop_."

"He isn't going to stop." Tyler states. "Josh is the biggest fucking flirt."

Brendon has come to learn that quickly, ever since the two of them had lunch together. He wouldn't stop.

"You love it." Josh utters to them.

"Maybe I do," is all Tyler says, slapping the deck.

***

For a while, the three of them lose focus on the questions and instead pay mind to the game. Maybe Brendon was right for warning them, because so far he has won four times, while Tyler and Josh had each won once.

"Brendon, you really are good at this, holy shit." Josh mumbles, amused.

"You don't even know." The latter replies.

Nearly every weekend he spends playing cards with Carina in the game room while their mothers play chess beside them. Over the years, he's learned most strategies and techniques. Over the years, he's become rather skilled in any card game it might be: Slap Jack, Egyptian Ratscrew, Go Fish, War, Crazy Eights.

Name it, he can do it.

"Do you play a lot?" Josh thinks aloud.

"Yeah. Most weekends." He shrugs, shuffling the deck to play their seventh game.

"Are you in some crazy card league? Is that why you're busy on the weekends?" Josh jokes, biting his tongue as he snickers. They all laugh, three in harmony.

That would be a lot better than his reality.

"I wish." He cracks a smile. "But, no."

Brendon's trying his hardest to distract himself from where this conversation is headed. It's upsetting how nervous he gets talking about something as simple as his weekends, which had been taken over by a horrid sickness.

And when Tyler speaks up, once again, it sends him reeling. "What do you do on the weekends, anyways?"

Brendon doesn't want to answer. He ignores it. "Let's keep playing." He mutters.

Tyler's not as pliant as Josh is, though. They sense the trepidation in his voice, but still push. Not harsh, not angrily, just curious. Maybe it's for the best, maybe having him opening up on high demand is good for him. Because, knowing Brendon, he'd stall for as long as he could.

"It's. . . Just, personal." Brendon whispers.

They all have cards in their hands, but don't make any move to play.

"Are you comfortable with telling us?" Josh asks.

Brendon looks down at the floor, chest never getting a break from the heaviness he has been feeling the entirety of the day.

He shrugs again. "I don't know." He's helpless. "It's a lot."

Josh and Tyler seem to understand. Josh lays his cards down onto the coffee table and scootches closer to Brendon until they're side-to-side, delicately tangling their fingers together and allowing Brendon to rest his head against his shoulder.

"If you need time, we'll give it to you, it's okay." He ensures.

Brendon shakes his head. "It's, it's important. You guys deserve to know." He's frowning.

He lets his heart go steady with Josh's thumb rubbing against his knuckles, it's reassuring him that they both are there for him, that they will give him time to cope. Tyler and Josh aren't going to turn away because he has a few problems, would they? Josh's hand in his is assuring safety.

They're waiting for him to continue, again. This night is overwhelming.

"Uh, I guess. . . Well, my mom," he huffs, feeling incapable. There's a lump in his throat the size of a tennis ball.

Tyler's face is softening, they're tough for only so long.

He tries to proceed, for them. For himself. "My mom has dementia, and uh, I. . . I-I take care of her on the weekends." He figures his body forgot how to pump blood for a bit, he feels deceased. Rotten. Disgusting. Lost.

"Holy shit," Josh mumbles.

Tyler says nothing, they like to stay silent. It's okay. They process things inaudibly.

"If that bothers you, I'm sorry. . . I just, my siblings don't fucking do anything, and I feel so _bad_." Brendon's shaking his head with so much doubt. He doesn't want anything to be real. "She needs me."

"How long have you been taking care of her?"

He sighs. "A few years."

"Years?" Josh breathes. He's flabbergasted. "That's insane. I'm so sorry."

Brendon shrugs numbly. "It's the least I can do. She's my mom."

"I get that, but you have a life too, Brendon." He's frowning as well. Brendon doesn't get why. "I mean, don't you want to do something during the weekend besides taking care of her? Could you maybe get a caregiver?"

"It's too much money. Way too much. Maybe for a few days, but definitely not full-time." Brendon never wanted to bring them into this, it's selfish of him. "Besides, no one visits her except me. She. . . She doesn't deserve that. My brothers and sisters never go to see her, I'm all she has. Even," he groans. "Even if she doesn't understand, I do. That's what makes it worse. I know that no one gives a shit except me. It's so bad."

After temporary silence for each of them to gather their thoughts, it's Tyler who speaks up.

"Maybe we can come with you sometime." They suggest.

"You don't. . . You don't have to do that." Not that they need to see what happens behind the scenes, anyways.

"This is a big part of your life. I think it should be a big part of ours, too." They reason, fiddling with the chains on their pants. "And, eventually, you're going to meet our parents, right? So why not."

Brendon nearly forgot that was something that needed to happen at a certain point. Meeting the parents.

He's intrigued, and questioning.

He wants to know more about the two of them.

"Because, I don't want it to become your problem too." Not that his mother is a problem. No, she's not.

"So what if it does? Your problems should become ours." They're talking about their relationship as a whole, which really doesn't have a certain label other than three people finding interest in one another.

Brendon squeezes Josh's hand tighter. "Maybe, I don't know."

Then it hits him like a fucking train that he couldn't, god, he couldn't bring Tyler over yet. How would he explain that to Carina? Who is Tyler to her? Nothing. Tyler's name means nothing to her, albeit meaning so much to Brendon. He couldn't bring them over because he wouldn't cave and confess, he'd lie in front of both of their faces and say _this is my_ _friend_ _._ Maybe that is the truth, but also it's not. This isn't friendship. This is a search for love in the thickness of the world.

"Holy shit." His eyes widen. What is he _doing_?

"What?" Josh asks, brows furrowed.

Brendon lets go of his hand, tears quick to brim his eyes. He's a terrible person.

"Tyler, I'm so sorry." He mutters. "I'm so sorry. Oh, my god."

They seem muddled. More than muddled. They don't understand what's going on; Brendon has instead moved from Josh to them, once again hugging them as tightly as possible, begging for forgiveness from an act they have no idea he's committed.

"What are you talking about?" They whisper in his hair, rubbing his back.

"I've been such a shitty person." He whispers back, closing his eyes tightly.

"What do you mean?"

Brendon breathes them in, savoring the smell of axe deodorant and vanilla, because it's Tyler. Tyler's there, mostly in spirit, but tonight they're here. With him. Holding him. Unknowing of the truth.

"At the retirement home, I-I have a friend, Carina. Fuck, she's my bestfriend." She's his best friend yet she doesn't know anything. Funny how that works. "I haven't told her about you. At all. I just-- she knows about Josh, but not you. I'm sorry. I am. I'll tell her. I'm just so fucking scared. . . There's so much to explain." He trembling upon their skin, gripping the fishnets and prodding.

Tyler doesn't do anything but pull him into their lap, allowing Brendon to bracket his legs around theirs.

"It's okay," They say.

Brendon's unsteady breath falls onto their shoulder, loud in their ear. He's distressed. "No. It's not."

"It is. I understand." Tyler tells him, rubbing soft circles like Josh had been doing to them, into his back, his tailbone. "Brendon, it's not the easiest thing to explain our whole situation. It's not going to be easy telling her that you're pursuing a relationship with a married couple, and one of them happens to be a big fucking queer." Tyler is a big fucking queer, and that's okay. Brendon grows from them.

He huffs. "I'm still sorry. You. . . You know I care about you, yeah, I do. A lot."

Tyler chuckles lightly. "I know."

Brendon nods, grateful.

"You tell her when you're ready, okay? That's your decision. You choose. Not me, not Josh." They mutter. Brendon hasn't been this close to a person in so long, but he can't find it in himself to care. He's sitting in their lap, chest-to-chest with them, and if he listened close enough he could probably hear the beat of their heart.

Josh soon holds Tyler's unoccupied hand. This is going to work.

All worries of losing everything the three of them had built up vanish before his eyes. As he sits here with Josh to his side, and Tyler much closer than that, he has a feeling it really will be okay. No matter how much anxiety or stress this next weekend is going to be, or maybe the next, or possibly the other one-- he can do it. He has to. He needs to.

Tyler means more than fear.

Tyler means more than insecurity.

Tyler's sitting with Brendon in their lap, rubbing away exactly that. Their holding his demons, and casting them to the side for now. Hopefully forever.

Carina deserves to know the truth, and Tyler deserves to live in it.

Brendon is just going to have to push, and that's okay. He can definitely use some of that, sometimes.

For the first time tonight, his mind and heart are truly at ease, not because he isn't littered with problems, or because he smoked them all away, it's because he has the smell of axe deodorant and vanilla reminding of how much he has, and what he obtains.

He's alive.


	26. Truth

Josh and Tyler stayed a lot longer than expected, and that's okay. Surprisingly, sitting in Tyler's lap like that was comforting more than it was nervewracking, because they had just been running their fingers up and down his spine. They didn't have to say anything, Brendon understood. He heard them loud and clear, even if they never spoke.

Maybe it's okay because Brendon missed that kind of contact. Feeling protected, feeling cared for.

It's sad to admit, but he hasn't felt cared for or loved in years. He's been alone in this world, truly. His family has broken apart; a subtle shift, but he noticed. How could he not? They're all he had.

Now, he has other people to focus on.

As he sat there embarrassingly long in Tyler's lap, Josh was running a hand through his hair. Brendon had been drained from head to toe, everything from that night eating away at whatever energy he had left.

Really, he could have fallen asleep like that.

He didn't.

As his eyes fell closed, it's then when Tyler finally spoke. "You have to be up early tomorrow, don't you." As always, it's a statement, not a question. They know, but ask to reassure. Tyler does that.

Brendon nods against them, toes curling as he leans into Josh's touch.

"Maybe we should head out soon, you need rest." They say. It's dissapointing to hear-- he really could just stay like that forever-- but Tyler's right.

It had been around ten when they left.

Josh held him tight, and Tyler squeezed his hand as a departure.

Ultimately, Brendon just wanted to go right to bed and sleep away any worries that may arise as soon as the two of them stepped out the door, but he couldn't. He had to put the leftovers away and clean the water bottles and cards from the coffee table.

He's not sure how long he'll be able to keep his apartment tidy. He'd like to say always, but that's not the truth.

Brendon cleans the kitchen to the best of his ability before heading to bed. As soon as he's about to lay down, though, his phone goes off.

It's a text message.

He furrows his brows, but nonetheless checks his phone. It's from Josh, an audio message. He clicks on the notification with a bit of hesitance; maybe this is going to be him ending their relationship, maybe he and Tyler couldn't do it in person because they felt too much pity for him, so this is how it goes. He knew he should've kept everything to himself. He has too many problems, why would they want to deal with them?

Brendon sighs. Still, he clicks on it, heart thumping irritably in his ears.

_"Just_ _wanted_ _to say goodnight. Well, mostly_ _Tyler_ _. They said it might_ _help_ _you calm down to hear our voices, just_ _in case_ _you might be worrying. I know it was a lot tonight, but_ _you_ _can trust us_ _with_ _this. Promise._ _I'm_ _really glad we talked about it."_

Brendon eyes are blown.

Tyler was definitely right about this reassuring him. A smile is slowly creeping into his face.

_"Baby, say goodnight."_

There's some shuffling, and some mumbles he couldn't exactly hear. Then, there's Tyler.

_"Goodnight, Brendon. Sleep well."_

He'll sleep well with no doubt tonight, now. Knowing that they were thinking about his wellbeing before going to bed themselves makes his heart swell more than ever. He really does feel safe. Tyler and Josh make him feel safe.

It's Josh's voice again when he says, _"I hope_ _everything_ _goes well at_ _your_ _mom's_ _this weekend. You can text us any time."_ Brendon has to close his eyes to soak it all up. He's living in his reality, but maybe that isn't such a bad thing as long as he has the two of them at his side. _"Goodnight."_

The audio message ends then, and so does the majority of Brendon's anxiety for the night.

His fingers move along the keyboard, heart full, exhaustion high.

**Goodnight. Thank you. Really.**

He slides his jeans off afterwards and crawls into bed in just his shirt and boxers, putting his phone on the charger.

There's no denying he sleeps well, how could he not? Tyler and Josh's voices play like a lullaby in the back of his head, and it's more than he could ever ask for. It's all he'll ever need.

Yeah, this is definitely something he could get used to.

***

Packing his bag in the morning was daunting on its own, but by the time he stepped foot in the retirement home, those nerves turned into a churning stomach, trembling hands, and even a headache. He wasn't sure if today he'd tell Carina the entirety of it all, yet he still finds himself extremely anxious at just the mere thought of it.

He didn't know whether he'd be ready to tackle on everything thrown his way. All the questions she'd have, all the concerns, all the repugnance even, maybe?

Brendon knew she could either take this with an open mind, or she wouldn't take it at all.

Would she find him disgusting?

Would she say something horrible about Josh or Tyler?

Would she tell him that Tyler's situation is loathsome?

He could handle negative things being said about himself, but if it comes to either Tyler or Josh, that would upset him to no belief. They don't deserve any hate when all they give is love.

His mind runs.

Brendon sighs, walking up the stairs to his mother's room. He'll stall until he couldn't anymore, he always does.

Truly, he knows the last thing Carina would do is treat him like he's an abomination, or whatever it might be. She has too much kindness in her heart to ever feel such a way, and still he worries about it.

It's such a big thing to tell someone. 

It's such a big thing in general. 

Brendon has yet to fully grasp the entire situation. He doesn't know what their kind of relationship is called, and he's not so sure Tyler and Josh do, either. Are they, what? A thruple? That sounds odd, but he's heard of it.

Technically, they aren't in a relationship yet. They're working towards that. They're working towards understanding one another and coming to terms with each of their realities.

They're not a thruple, but soon, they might just be.

Brendon's chest isn't very light when he opens the door, the smell of cinnamon spice makes it worse. He lays his packed bag down onto the couch and slowly opens the door to his mother's bedroom, seeing her sleeping frame. She has pictures, art, and crafts of and from her grandkids on the walls, even though she definitely doesn't remember any of them. The worst part is she'll pretend she does any time they _do_ visit, which isn't often, at all.

There's school photos of his brother Mason's son Mitchell above her bed, and beside that is a drawing Kevin did when he was younger.

Brendon doesn't understand why they're there if they mean anything to Grace.

He has to shrug it off.

"Mom?" He finally says, sitting next to her in bed.

She stirs in her sleep a bit, eyes opening after a moment. He purses his lip into as much of a smile as he could give right now.

"Breakfast is gonna be served soon. You hungry?" Brendon sure isn't.

The thought of just being around Carina scares him. She will obviously tell something is wrong; she can read him like the back of her hand, definitely more than Brendon can read himself. He knows he isn't ready, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be.

Truthfully, if he holds off any longer, he'll never have the audacity to confess.

"Really hungry," Grace mumbles tiredly, sitting up.

"Let's get ready and head downstairs." The last thing he wanted is to go downstairs. Around everyone. Around the eyes. Around Carina.

Brendon tries his hardest to swallow the lump in his throat, helping his mother out of bed and into the bathroom. It's a script; he knows every inch of this apartment by now. He helps her use the toilet and brush her teeth, and luckily today, she feels able enough to change out of her pajamas by herself.

After an unusually long amount of time spent in her room, Grace comes back into the living room where Brendon's sat. She's in an obnoxious pair of purple sweat pants and a floral top. He doesn't comment on it, knowing no one in the homes would pay much mind to the odd choice. If anything, this was a fashion statement.

"Ready?" Brendon asks.

Grace's eyebrows furrow. "For what?"

Maybe it stops hurting after a while; he's passive as she speaks.

"We're heading downstairs for breakfast, c'mon." He grabs her hand steadily and leads her out the room, making sure to lock the door behind them.

Grace might be assuming he's holding her hand to guide her, but really he's holding it for reassurance. She may not understand, or ever will, but his mother's hand will always hold as much comfort as it possibly can. He squeezes once, twice, a few times. Heart beating loudly, knees trembling silently.

He's absolutely terrified.

"Mom?" Brendon whispers as they make their way down the stairs, he can see Carina from here.

"Yes?"

He huffs, blinking to keep himself aware. "I love you so much." Is all he says.

He's hoping to hear it back. It's all he needs right now.

Solace, please, just give him solace. As he nears their designated seating area, he feels like he could just trip over his own feet, or that maybe the void in his heart and mind could swallow him whole and hide him from the disaster happening internally, and soon, probably externally as well.

Grace squeezes his hand this time. "I love you too." She doesn't address him, she doesn't love Brendon, or her son, but she does. It's as much as she could give.

It's as much as he'll receive. This is fine.

They make it to the table, and instantly, Carina is up out of her seat giving Brendon such a tight hug he loses even more of his breath.

"Bren!" She murmurs into his ear, arms around his shoulders.

His hand trembles until it meets her waist. He holds her as close as he could, for as long as he could, because his mind is getting the best of him, telling him this might really be it. This might _really_ be the last time he'd get to have Carina so close, and so excited to see him. He'd tell her every secret he'd been hiding, and she'd want nothing to do with him again, because she doesn't agree, or maybe she'd be mad that he lied to her this whole time.

It's for himself, to protect himself. Selfish, he is. He's sure of it.

He doesn't deserve Carina; this could benefit her. Possibly, set him free.

"Carina," Brendon utters. For no particular reason besides assuring himself she's still here for now.

Much to his disappointment, she pulls away. He hadn't noticed until now the change in her appearance, once bright blue hair-- that had faded over time-- now a delicate shade of pink. It suits her well, it always does.

His eyes widen a bit. A nervous, but pleased smile falling on his face.

He'll stall, he'll stall. "Your hair."

She gasps a bit, running her fingers through it with a big grin. "Yes! Do you like it?"

Brendon nods enthusically. He likes it, yes, but more so because he's frantic in every way. "It looks super nice, Carina."

Her cheeks match her hair. "Thank you."

They end up sitting down soon after, everyone falling into a steady conversation, but not Brendon. He couldn't bare to speak up right now unless he absolutely had to. He could already sense how much his voice would waver, or crack because of how unbelievably overcome he is with uneasiness.

Underneath the table, he pulls at the skin of his knuckles, pinching them too when it's not enough. He couldn't, wouldn't, let Carina see.

He watches her, he watches everyone.

"What's for breakfast today?" Carina's mother asks.

Thankfully, he doesn't need to move. Carina looks instead, eyes scanning over the small paper they call a menu here.

"Oatmeal, an omelet, or eggs and bacon." She announces.

Brendon looks over to his mother, deciding what she might want without asking. His leg bounces.

"Oatmeal sounds delicious," Grace mutters, picking at a loose thread on her shirt. Maybe the world is just working out in his favor today; he can stay quiet for as long as he'd like, build himself up to his confession. Because, if the world really is doing things in his favor, maybe Carina would take the news lightly.

That's all he could hope for.

All Brendon ever does anymore is hope for something better.

"Brendon, are you okay?" Carina whispers when she sees his leg moving up and down in an agitated manner. Of course he couldn't hide for long.

He shrugs, swallowing. "Yeah. I'm. . . I-I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She's frowning a bit.

Brendon nods, small. "Yeah."

He tries to stop bouncing his leg, but it's no use. In less than two minutes he's bouncing it once again. Up and down, up and down.

For a while, it goes like that. Brendon finds any little thing to fidget with, like the silverware in front of him, or the tablecloth tickling his knees. He even finds himself biting the inside of his cheek and his bottom lip roughly-- more than roughly. He winces the majority of the time, but also, in a way, it's calming him down.

He knows how much easier this would be if he just took one of his CBD pills, or smoked a little before coming downstairs. He didn't, though, and he won't. This is something he needs to do sober. He needs to be fully concious, and so what if he has to witness himself get overthrown by his anxiety. It's not new for him, it never will be.

This is part of the experience. The nerves. Everything he feels is a part of the experience. He shouldn't find ways to reduce his worries just because it might be able to help him out in the long run.

Brendon's going to do this. _Just_ Brendon.

He eats very little of his food; he seems to do that a lot when he's overcome with uneasiness. He takes a few bites of his eggs, maybe one or two of the bacon, and pushes it all together until it's a mess on his plate. His fork trembles along with his had, they're in sync for the worst reason.

Brendon has to guide the spoon into his mother's mouth a few times before she can wrap her crippling mind around it.

Soon enough, he watches everyone enjoy their meal while he sits in a pool of fear.

He flinches when tasting the blood in his mouth, his teeth are being relentless. His lip is punctured, just like every ounce of self-confidence he may have had.

Carina notices, she always does.

She doesn't say anything, only holding the back of his neck and pressing a napkin to his lip. He didn't know how, but he ends up leaning against her shoulder. Yes, he's in pain from biting himself so hard, but he is mostly needing that moral support out of the pure agony he's indulged with anything yet to happen. He's a machine made for the sole purpose of never being enough, and breaks down at every realization.

Carina runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

She knows.

How could she not.

Brendon, really, could have just started crying then and there.

He doesn't.

Instead, he closes his eyes and listens to his heart for an answer. It beats so loud there's no way he'd be able to miss it. "I'm scared." He says.

She was the only person who could soothe him, and still, he feels almost distant in her touch. He knows why, and she doesn't.

"You know you can tell me anything. I'm here for you. Always." Carina pulls the napkin away from his lip which has become chapped by that time. Brendon says nothing, so she continues. "Does it have anything to do with what you were telling me a few weeks ago?"

Then, his brows furrow. What had he told her?

She seems to understand just by his reaction.

"You said you had a lot to tell me. And, you said you weren't ready yet." She explains, folding the napkin and placing it on his lip again. "If. . . If it is that, don't push yourself to tell me unless you're completely comfortable, okay? You take your time with this, Bren."

Truth be told, he'll never be completely comfortable.

Brendon pulls her hand away in order for his speach not to be slurred. "Carina, you already know if I don't say it soon, I'll never say it. . ."

He stalls until he doesn't anymore; he'd keep it tucked away forever if he really could.

She nods though, eyes warm, like Josh's. Now, like Tyler's, almost. It's strange how much things are shifting.

"Then, are you going to tell me?" This could be demanding, but it's not. Her voice is sweet like ropes of licorice, he would eat it up forever if he could. Carina is only asking, for clarity, and reassurance on Brendon's part.

Brendon inhales and exhales, Adam's apple bobbing. He needs this. He needs truth in his life.

"Just. . . Just. . . Not here? Please, god. Please." He shakes his head. "Can we, uh, maybe. . . maybe go to the gameroom or something and, um, talk there? There's just too many people here." Grace and her friend-- everyone has finished eating now. It'd be okay.

Carina smiles lightly. "We can do that."

Soon, much to Brendon's demise, they make their way upstairs. All four of them. Grace wasn't very happy with the thought of spending time in a place other than her room for a while, and Brendon has to tell her it won't be long, although he has no clue himself.

They set their mothers up for chess, and he knows his mom might not remember how to play today, but he also knows her friend would just go along with it for the sake of not caring enough.

Everything would be fine, right?

Brendon isn't sure. He never is.

He and Carina sit down on the tacky sofa a bit aways, no one is around. This is as good as it would get.

They just sit there for a while, Carina allowing him to collect himself, Carina allowing him to wrap his mind around the fact that _this is really_ _happening_ , although she has no idea what it even is. Brendon pulls a knee to his chest and shamelessly bites at his skin through his jeans, rubbing his forehead against his saliva-coated pants in distress.

"Fuck." He grumbles. Fuck.

Carina only pulls out a pack of gum from her back pocket, she chews gum a lot. She hands him one knowingly. She hands him one knowing he might be able to chew away his worries. The toughness against his teeth, instead of his lip or cheek.

Brendon chews it adamantly, arms wrapped around himself.

"You ready?" She asks.

He has to close his eyes for the next exhale. "I don't even know where to start."

It's then when his phone vibrates, and there's only two possible people it could be. Of course, is all he thinks. Of course.

It's Josh.

**I'm** **super** **busy today, sorry if I miss anything.** **Tyler's** **home editing though,** **you** **can text them if you** **want** **.**

Brendon swallows, sighing. He doesn't reply, he can't find it in himself to do that right now. He can't find it in himself to speak at all, really. Carina is just looking, waiting, reminding him of what Tyler always does.

He thinks of Tyler, and he thinks of his lack of words. So, he presses the gallery icon on his phone and goes to the first picture he'd ever seen of the two of them together, the one on Josh's Tinder profile. Nose tucked into Tyler's neck, an arm around them. Yeah. That one.

Brendon's hands tremble in despair, as a warning, he supposed. Should he really be doing this?

The answer is obvious.

He slowly hands Carina his phone, getting to watch the confusion on her face before putting pieces together, or something like that.

Brendon has to look away, he bounces his other leg and dips his head back. He couldn't believe this is happening. The palms of his hands sweat, the pang in his chest is strong.

It takes a moment, but Carina finally mumbles out a, "Did things not work out with Josh?"

This comes as a surprise to him. Did she really not understand? Maybe it's not as clear as he thought, which is more than nervewracking because now he's going to have to explain more than he wanted to, but he guessed that's the point. He needed to explain.

Brendon shakes his head. That isn't the case at all. "No, that's. . . That's his, um,"

He has to pause. Bile is rising to his throat the longer he sits and the longer he speaks.

He loses himself.

"That's his husband."

The word itself makes his stomach churn so undelightfully he could definitely use a release right now. He's choking down his own vomit, his own nausea. His head spins.

Carina eyes widen so big, it terrifies him. "His _husband_?"

Now, the tears threaten him. His jaw clenches in hopes to keep it in. "Yeah. Tyler."

Carina has to set his phone down in order to process the minimal information. It's understandable.

Brendon presses his hand against his mouth, trying to keep himself steady from anything that might escape. He can't even remember the last time his stomach churned this horribly, or head span this bad. He needs to choke down all signs of disgust right now, he needs to do this.

"Are you. . . Is he having an affair?" She whispers, glancing over to Brendon with this certain look he's never before seen from her.

He shakes his head. Repeatedly.

She takes it in, and accepts it. She's having to believe him because he has all the answers. She waits for more. She doesn't understand.

Brendon's blinking, over and over and over, he can't let himself fall so quickly. He wants to cry, but he cries too much. He's weak, and needs to be strong right now.

It's hard.

"Tyler knows. Tyler. . . Tyler's a part of it." He mumbles, chest caving. "Carina, I'm a part of it." He tells her, hastily meeting eyes with one another.

The thought even scares him, and it's his own story.

Carina stays quiet, nodding to herself and closing her eyes to think thoroughly about the entire situation. He doesn't blame her, he needs to do the same thing. He can't help but imagine how much easier this might of been to actually have Josh and Tyler help him out with this, but he knows what he doing right now is for the best. Raw, alone.

"Does his husband-- Tyler, how does he feel about all of this? Did you know from the start he was going be in the relationship, too?" Brendon hasn't realized until now how uncomfortable he would get with someone using the wrong pronouns for them. Here he is, nearly shrinking in repulse.

He can't even imagine what it's like for Tyler.

"Uh, yeah. About that, they don't go by. . . _That_." He's bad with words. He's aware.

Carina's brows pull together. He can't comprehend how much this must be to take on. He appreciates her sticking along, still. "What does that mean?"

Brendon shrugs. He doesn't want to have to explain, because he still doesn't fully understand, which is probably embarrassing considering how important Tyler is to him. It's just very personal, and he's not sure if he would be able to ask certain questions he'd always been wondering.

"Tyler is, uh," He gulps, running a hand through his hair and pulling at it harshly. "They're non-binary."

"Non-binary?" She repeats. "What's that?"

Brendon shrugs, again. It's a natural reaction. "They don't go by male pronouns, like, you know, he and him. . .  they go by, well, _they/them_."

Carina's eyes shift. "Oh?" It isn't vicious, just confused, and that's okay.

Brendon looks down at his lap. "Do you. . . Do you get it? I kinda didn't at first, uh, but the two of them helped me." He's scratching at his thighs through his jeans, scared. Terrified. Always.

"I mean, I think? I've just never heard of that before." She mutters.

Brendon nods. "Instead of saying _he_ , we say _they_. So, like, um, they really like to cook. And they love to write, they've even written about me." His shoulders lift as he speaks, still, not making eye contact with Carina. He's not sure if he can.

"Okay," She murmurs. "I just-- why did you say husband, then. Isn't that like. . . Wait." She has to pause, gears shifting in her brain. "What does being non-binary even mean?"

If only he knew himself.

"Josh said something about. . . Them feeling like they don't conform to either gender, so they're just, uh, in the middle. Something like that." He's now realizing he really needs to have a thorough conversation about Tyler, _with_ Tyler. This isn't good.

"So. . . _They_. . . Don't have a gender?" Brendon's glad she's trying.

He chews the gum faster. "Yeah, I guess so."

They're both quiet, but after a moment, she breaks the silence.

"I can understand. I'll try to. I promise." Carina says, and Brendon finally looks up at her.

"Really? About. . . About everything?" He's hopeful.

She nods. "I meant about, about _them_. But yeah, everything. Why wouldn't I?" She touches his hand, slowly lacing their fingers together inch by inch. "You're my friend, Brendon. If this is important to you, then it's important to me."

Now, he cries. Lip pushed out pathetically and eyes squinting roughly, he whimpers and falls to her shoulder. "Thank you." He whispers, hoarse. "Thank you." Again and again. He's never been more appreciative. To her. To the universe. He wouldn't be losing her, and that's all he could ask for.

Carina runs her fingers through his hair, holding him protectively. "Of course." She vows. "Just. . . You have a lot to tell me. I still don't really understand everything."

Brendon nods hastily against her chest, he knows.

"They take care of you, right?" She questions after a moment, he cries. "Both of them, I mean."

Brendon can't help but smile through his tears. "Yeah, they do."

Carina pulls his face from out of her chest, hands resting at his wet cheeks. They're staring at one another, and she soaks it all up. "That's all that matters."

And she's right. What mattered most is if he's happy, and there's no doubt in his mind that he is. He doesn't have to question it, because at just the mere thought of Tyler or Josh, he catches himself with a blush like no other. He couldn't believe the amount of safety they've been offering him, because to him, what has he done to deserve it? He has three of the greatest people in his life, he'd say. Easily.

Carina, Josh, and Tyler are all he needed. And, he has them.

He has them.

He'll have to apologize to his mother later, because he and Carina spend nearly two hours in the gameroom talking. He tells her everything, _everything_ , and she listens. But, the best part about it this time, is that there's nothing left to hide. She's seen the confusion, the heartache, the affection. Every emotion. Still, she isn't disgusted, she's smiling, happy, for Brendon. This is what he needed, in more ways than one.

He knew it would feel good to talk about Tyler, but he didn't know it would feel this good. He's crying, he's smiling, he's laughing. At the little things. At their style, and their stone face. At their smile, and their cooking.

Tyler's beautiful, he knows. Head to toe, mind to heart, he'd say.

He tells her how provocative the two of them are, but he also tells her it might just be okay. He needs to ease into it, and he'd say having Josh and Tyler with him are his best bet.

Ultimately, Brendon will be okay. More than okay.

Carina still holds his hand, and so will Tyler and Josh. What more could he ask for?


	27. Pending

That night, once Grace was in bed and Brendon was left for another restless night on the couch, his mind goes on and on. This time, though, it isn't so bad. The thoughts don't consume him like the night sky, but instead a warm day in the South. They're good for him, they comfort him even, and he's not used to this.

Brendon never knew until now how much weight would get lifted off his chest from doing something as simple as confessing-- but that's the thing, it wasn't simple, and he's proud of himself for taking that step. It was needed, and as a result, he's allowed to breathe without fear around Carina. He no longer will worry about a slip up, because there's nothing to slip up with now, and that's what has been settling deeply.

He knows soon enough he won't be able to hide it from Luke anymore. But for now, he doesn't think about that.

Brendon turns to his side and brings his phone a closer to his face. It's later, and he knows Josh is probably home by now, so it should be okay to call him. He hopes it's okay.

If not, he'll call Tyler.

He just needs to talk to either of them. Badly.

**Ca** **n** **I** **call you?**

Brendon shifts and stirs, waiting for a response and watching whatever is on the television. It's mostly car commercials, which doesn't necessarily peak his interest as much as a text from Josh might.

After a few minutes, Josh does reply.

**Video call?**

Brendon bites his lip. He's never done a video call, but there's no reason why he shouldn't.

**Okay.**

He's in the dark and the only thing lighting up his face is the TV. He doesn't understand why Josh wants to video call, but he also doesn't mind, because seeing Josh-- and most likely Tyler-- is going to put him at ease. He just wished they would actually be here with him, though.

Or maybe he not; he doesn't want them to go through this, too.

It doesn't take long for Josh to call, Brendon's own face popping up on the screen. He purses his lips, pressing the answer button.

Then, his screen is full of Josh's face, and he really doesn't mind.

Josh smiles, so does Brendon. "Hi." He says.

Brendon hides behind his arm a little, he doesn't know why he's already blushing. Or maybe he does. Josh gives him butterflies in his stomach like a fucking teenage girl. It's embarrassing. "Hey," he mutters, blinking a few times.

Josh pulls the camera away from his face and instead places it somewhere else. He's in the computer room it seems, and Brendon can see Tyler in the background.

He watches them glance over to Josh. They must see Brendon on the call because they give an all-lip smile before turning back to the computer.

"So what's up?" Josh asks after a moment.

Brendon bites his lip although it's still sore, still punctured. He can't help it. "I did it," he mumbles. "I told Carina everything."

Maybe he's subliminally asking for the two of them to be proud of him, and maybe he's subliminally craving for their praise. _Good job, Brendon._ That's all he needed, especially coming from Tyler and Josh.

Josh's eyebrows lift, he takes a sip of what can only be coffee. "How'd it go?"

Brendon huffs, he knows it went a lot better than expected. "It went. . . It went really well, actually." He has to smile, he feels like he needs to. He should. "Josh, uh. I-I had to explain a lot to her and I realized there's still a lot I don't even know about. Is that bad? Because. . . Because I'm a part of this?" He hopes Tyler's listening too, he wants them to be in this conversation.

Josh pulls his hand away from the computer mouse, fully engaging with Brendon now.

He shakes his head. "That's okay, Brendon." He pops his knuckles. Hands tense, he supposed. "You can ask us anything, you know. Especially if there's things you don't understand. It's important."

Brendon does know, but fear will always get the best of him.

He nods anyways. "I just don't want to ask something that might be. . . Stupid. Or obvious. I don't know. I'm sorry."

He has no idea what he's apologizing for; it seems required.

Tyler's definitely listening though, he can tell. They're glancing over to Josh, and his phone, and they just all around look thoughtful. Tyler's a thinker, he knows this by now. He's learning slowly to be patient with their lack of words, because everything is mental for them.

"I promise nothing you ask is stupid. You have every right to be confused about stuff." Josh says, leaning on his hand.

Brendon nods, again. Maybe he's more of a thinker as well.

"I miss you guys." It falls from his mouth without much thought, but as soon as it slips past his lips, his heart beats rapidly. It was accidental, but now it's out in the open for the two of them to devour.

Josh smiles. "I miss you too." Brendon watches him look over to Tyler for their input, and still, they say nothing. He's caught on quickly to their fear of being vulnerable, and it's okay. He understands.

Brendon is content with just knowing how they feel, even if it's never said.

Josh turns back to look at Brendon. "We should go out for lunch again on Monday."

It's probably the best thing he's heard all day. He asks, "With Tyler, right?"

Josh grins. "With Tyler."

Okay. Brendon lied before, now _that's_ the best thing he's heard all day. He didn't know where this immense amount of gratitude for Tyler has come from, but he's not upset about it. So what if he just wanted them around? It isn't a bad thing. Their presence has become comfort.

"Good." Brendon declares.

He watches Tyler smile to themself, shaking their head and continuing to type with a big grin.

Brendon's heart swells. He can't help it.

"Where should we go?" Josh asks. It's directed to both of them, really.

Brendon's not good at making decisions, he lets Tyler take the lead in this.

They shrug. "Burgerhaus?" It's the first time Brendon has heard their voice all day, and he's hiding his smile just like he did his cheeks. Maybe he'll never get over the gravel of their voice or the lightness of it. Maybe he'll never get over Tyler.

"Is that alright, Bren?" Josh questions, the nickname leaving his mouth easily.

Brendon's said before how he hated being called that, but not when it's coming from the people he cares for most.

There he goes blushing again.

He'll never catch a break.

"Sounds good to me." It's meek. He's meek.

"Around the same time as before?" Brendon nods, he's always nodding. He's just quiet.

Eventually, he is about to say something, but as soon as he opens his mouth, the door to Grace's bedroom opens and she comes walking out with messy hair and tired eyes. Brendon feels his heart sink to his toes, he didn't want to deal with anything besides Tyler and Josh right now. He didn't want them to have to witness anything, either.

It's sad that he's ashamed of his own life.

Brendon puts his phone down. "Mom? What's wrong?" He asks, turning to look at her.

"I'm thirsty." She utters, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Brendon sighs. He isn't comfortable on the couch, anyways. He leaves his phone and stands, going over to the kitchenette and pulling out a water bottle from the refrigerator.

He hands it to Grace, who takes it adamantly.

"Thank you." She mumbles, twisting off the cap after a moment and taking small sips.

"Don't drink too much, you should head back to bed." He knows she'd wake him up later to tell him she needed to use the restroom, and he'd much rather get as much sleep on her extremely uncomfortable couch as he could.

She nods, taking more sips for a little while. The two of them stand there, waiting, staring. It's weird, and he just wants to get back to Tyler and Josh already. He's begging her with only his eyes, although he knows she wouldn't get the signal.

Still, she says, "Okay." And hands the half empty bottle back to Brendon. "Goodnight."

It's a relief.

"Goodnight." He watches her walk back into her bedroom, and instantly, he goes back to the couch. He's almost suprised to see Josh still on call with him, he thought he might of left. Most people do. "Sorry."

Josh shakes his head, turning off his computer. "It's alright." Brendon sees him stand, and he gets a view under Josh's chin, which to some can be rather unattractive, but Josh still looks as good as ever. Maybe Brendon's just biased.

"We're about to head to bed, it's been a long fucking day." He grumbles, making his way up the stairs.

The news upsets Brendon a bit, but he needs sleep too.

"Tyler, take the phone real quick. I need to change." There's something inaudible, and some shuffling because of Josh giving the phone to them, but then it's Tyler's face who greets him. Eyes hooded, lips full, Adam's apple prominent as always.

They're staring at one another; Brendon doesn't know what to say, and Tyler really just never says much.

"How are you feeling?" They finally say, ask.

He knows they're not asking in general, but instead how he feels after the entire conversation with Carina. Brendon appreciates it, because it's something he doesn't want to brush off, it's something he wants praise for whether it's little or not. He just needs to know he did well, and maybe that's selfish of him to ask for, but he never feels validated anymore.

"I'm okay. It was a lot." He mumbles, feeling almost odd talking to Tyler personally about his own feelings. He's not sure why.

They seem to understand though, switching to lay on their side instead of back. They're in bed.

"But she took it well, right?"

Brendon hums. "Yeah. She just didn't understand a lot of it, but I tried to help as much as I could." He wants to tell Tyler they need to talk together, whether Josh is there or not, and make it all clear. Brendon wants to get this, Brendon needs to get this.

Tyler processes every word, just like they always do. "Did you tell her about _everything_?"

And they really are referring to everything. Not only Tyler, but who _Tyler_ is.

"Yeah, I did." He utters.

Tyler nods; he'd even say their Adam's apple bobs subconsciously. "What'd she say?"

Brendon doesn't know what's too much and what's too little for them. What is Tyler expecting to hear? What does Tyler _want_ to hear? He should be honest, he knows, but he also feels like it could be nervewracking considering out of the three of them, he exposed Tyler the most. He's laid them out on a table, and allowed himself and Carina to dissect them for a better understanding.

Brendon grits his teeth.

"She said she's never heard of. . . Of being non-binary before." It's his first time saying the word in front of them, and again, this conversation feels weird.

"Most people don't." They state.

Brendon's aware.

"Yeah, but, uh, she-she said she's going to try her hardest to understand everything. She was using the right, _y'know_ , pronouns and stuff once I explained it to her." He hopes that's what they wanted to hear, he's sure it is.

Brendon's awkward, his speech makes it clear enough.

Or maybe this conversation is just awkward.

He's not sure.

Though they don't make it obvious, Tyler seems heartwarmed by the information. Brendon's glad. They're hiding this certain smile, and he'd like to tell them they don't need to hide, but he knows he does the exact same thing.

"She sounds nice," they say.

There's no doubt in his mind.

"She really is." Brendon declares. "She said that-- um. She said she wants to meet you and Josh." It had been while they were sitting there in the gameroom, when the setting became more comfortable instead of tense. She told Brendon the next step would be for her to meet the two of them sometime, and although he's anxious at the thought, he knows it would be good for him _and_ Carina. Maybe even Tyler and Josh, too. A closer look inside of his life.

Not that it's anything worthy of seeing.

"Definitely." Tyler whispers. "When?"

Brendon doesn't know. He wished never, and not because he doesn't want either of them to meet Carina, but his mother.

He wanted to dismiss the subject.

He can't this time.

It's then, though, when Josh comes back into view, falling right beside Tyler in bed and resting his head onto their chest, eyes squinted as he looks to the phone. "What are we talking about?" He mumbles out. You can hear the gruff in his voice.

Tyler pecks his forehead, running a hand through his hair. "Meeting his friend, Carina."

Josh hums, nodding, and easing into their husband's touch. His eyes close and his cheek is pushed by the weight of their chest, but it's alright. He seems more than content.

"Sounds like a plan." He mutters, tired. "I'm interested in meeting the people in your life, anyways."

Brendon picks at his lip. He shouldn't, no. But he does. "I could say the same."

Possibly, Brendon's just getting mixed signals, but he also observes for a living, it feels. Tyler doesn't want to go where this conversation is headed; their face doesn't move from the stone figure it sits in, but the color of it does. A subtle tide of warmth flushes their neck and cheeks, and they ask, "Should we meet her this next weekend, then?"

Now, Brendon's a bit flushed. "Uh, really? That-that. . . That soon?"

Tyler shrugs, they're getting their way. The conversation is shifting. "Would that be okay?"

Brendon wants to say no, but there's not one reason to besides the fact that he's ashamed, and it's sickening.

"I guess that'd be alright." He murmurs.

He doesn't have a choice. These things need to happen; what's the point of delaying them? Brendon will eventually, hopefully-- or maybe not so hopefully-- meet the people in Josh and Tyler's life. Their family, their friends. Everyone who's important to them.

"I have to work on the weekends, but I could stay for a few." Josh pipes up. "You go early in the morning on Saturday, right?"

Brendon lets out an, "Mhm."

He likes Josh's voice, and Tyler's too. It's like they're giving him another lullaby and he's reeling; ready for bed.

"We'd be going to the home your mom's at, right?" Tyler questions after a moment. He wished they wouldn't have brought it up. Not now. He wants to rest easy.

Brendon gulps, nodding. "Yeah."

Tyler and Josh see him faltering, so neither of them push any further. They seem to understand when things should be left alone. It's an internal battle only Brendon needs to go through to set everything straight. Josh and Tyler will meet his mother, and soon, no matter how much he'd like for it to never happen.

"We've gotta get to bed," Josh mumbles, trying to surpass the bit of tension Tyler always seems to build with Brendon unintentionally.

"I do too." He replies, rubbing his socked feet together nervously.

"See you Monday?" Josh smiles a little.

So does Brendon. "Yeah, I'll see you Monday."

By now, Tyler has Josh practically cradled to their chest, still managing to hold the phone, but not as well. "Goodnight." The two of them say in sync. They both chuckle, and Brendon misses them. Definitely.

"Goodnight." He breathes, pressing the _end call_ button afterwards.

Brendon drops his phone onto his chest, sighing deeply. We wants it to be Monday already.

***

The next day, Brendon tries to spend as much time with Carina as possible. He knows he's supposed to be here for his mother, but he also realizes that he very rarely gets to see his best friend. Now that she knows about Tyler, and about Brendon's entire relationship status in general, it feels more comfortable than it already was.

It's sometimes scary how much Brendon thinks about Josh and Tyler. Even as he and Carina are playing their tenth game of Egyptian Ratscrew, he's thinking of them. Even as he slaps the deck and calls out the name, he's thinking of them.

The thinks about them constantly; he thinks about Friday and how Tyler held him in their lap like they had done it with him a million times before, or how Josh had just ran a hand through his hair, weirdly knowing it would soothe him.

Tyler and Josh are both all-knowing. 

"Can I. . . Can I talk about them?" He asks after a moment, looking up at Carina meekly.

She nods, then furrows her eyebrows. "Both of them, or Tyler?"

He understands the confusion. "Both of them."

She nods again. "Of course, Bren. You can tell me anything, okay? You don't have to ask." He knows, but still feels obligated to. It's all so new for him, and for her. He doesn't want to be overbearing.

Maybe he doesn't mind it sometimes, though, because he goes on and on about the night before when Josh had video called him, and how Tyler said that they would most likely be coming over to meet her this upcoming weekend.

Carina's ecstatic at the news. He's glad someone is.

***

By the time it _is_ Monday, he's at the edge of his seat all morning. Luke notices, too. He looks over the cubicle wall and says, "Something's happening. . ." 

Brendon pulls away from his keyboard. "What?"

"I said something's happening, isn't it? You can't hide anything from me." He laughs, but all Brendon can think is _if only he knew._ Brendon's entire story is a lie, really, but Luke trusts him.

His stomach flips.

"Uh, yeah." He purses his lips. "I'm going out to lunch again with--" Brendon has to remind himself Luke still doesn't know. Only Carina. Just Carina. "With Josh." Luke being unaware gives him a whole other reason to be at the edge of his seat.

The latter frowns. "You're abandoning me _again_?"

Brendon bites his cheek, he's been trying to avoid his lip. "I'm sorry."

Lukas shrugs though. "It's fine. Just have fun for me."

He'll try his best. Around everyone at a restaurant, it's hard. Around anyone in general. There's too many people, too many sounds, too many smells. Being out is overwhelming, and that's why Brendon supposed he never went out to eat much, or out at all. The grocery store and his job are necessities. That's all he's willing to do on his own.

Josh and Tyler push him, it's no secret. It not so bad either, because as long as they're there, it helps him as much as possible.

Lukas tends to his computer again, and so does Brendon.

It was going to be a long few hours.

***

The hours were long, but Brendon managed to push through.

He had asked Josh to send him the location of the restaurant just to make sure he went to the right place, because knowing Brendon, he'd most likely end up somewhere completely different. He hasn't been to Burgerhaus in years, he forgets where it even is.

As soon as he's parked and out of the car, his chest is stinging. All he had to do was glance at the place and his stomach is boiling something unpleasant.

_The place is packed._

Okay, maybe not packed, but it's enough for Brendon to shrink into himself.

He'll have to wait for Tyler and Josh.

He pulls his phone out to text one of them, but as he does, Josh calls. Sometimes it feels like Josh has him on a loop; why does he know everything?

Once answering, he brings the phone up to his ear while his unaccompanied arm wrapped around his own waist protectively. He does that every now and then. If no one was here to keep him safe, he'll do it himself.

"Brendon, what are you doing just standing in the parking lot?" Josh chuckles a bit over the line.

Brendon starts looking around. "Are you. . . Are you and Tyler here?"

"We just passed you while we were trying to find a place to park." He replies, shutting the car door from what it sounds like. "We'll be right there though, okay?"

"Okay." Brendon mumbles, pulling his phone away and ending the call.

He waits impatiently for them, fiddling with the buttons on his cuffs and scrunching his toes inside the dress shoes he wears. He'd been waiting to see Tyler and Josh all of Sunday, and all of this morning. No, he'd been waiting to see Tyler and Josh as soon as they left his apartment on Friday.

He seems to miss them even while they're there. He misses their smiles and laughs, and the small gestures of affection they always seem to give. He misses Josh's constant pestering, and Tyler's eye rolls. He even missed--

_Jim_.

Brendon's eyebrows furrow as Tyler, Josh, _and_ Jim walk towards him.

There's a tie-dye bandana around his neck, and his tongue hangs out from his mouth. Josh is holding the leash, guiding him easily over to Brendon.

"Jim?" Is all he can get out.

Josh shrugs. "I'm off today and he needs to get out anyways."

Brendon simply nods, pleased with the outcome, but mostly overwhelmed with happiness at just the sight of the three of them. He doesn't hesitate to hug Josh, it's becoming casual and it's good. This is good. He hugs him back with so much certainty that Brendon would be lying if he said he wasn't nearly swooning.

He pulls away and hugs Tyler instead, at a rather awkward place, too. He's standing straight but is just under their chin.

He still holds onto them. "Why are you so much taller than you already are today?" He whispers against their chest, cheek to shirt. Cheek to turtleneck.

It's Tyler who pulls away this time, they say nothing but look down. Brendon follows, seeing them model off their platform shoes that add quite a few inches to them. He isn't a short person, but being around Tyler always makes him feel short. This only enhances that feeling.

"They're nice," Brendon murmurs.

Tyler looks back at him, _down_ at him. "Thank you."

Their platform shoes are black, just like their turtle neck and even their cat eye sunglasses. Their pants, though, are black _and_ white. Plaid, too. They're double-sided, so one color is in front while the other is on the back. Brendon will never be able to fully grasp their sense of style, but it's also growing on him.

It's definitely growing on him.

"Ready to eat?" Josh questions.

Brendon nods. He's as ready as he can be.

Tyler seems to notice his apprehension still, and instead of asking why, they simply link hands with him. Neither of them say anything, Brendon is just feeling it all.

Their hands fit together well, but he's worried that his hands might be sweating, or that everyone in the restaurant will stare. He doesn't want them to stare. They can't stare.

Tyler only squeezes his hand, running their thumb over his harrassed knuckles. He hopes they wouldn't notice the pink tone they're consistently tainted in.

By the time the three of them-- well, he supposed four-- make it into the restaurant and to the front, Josh is asking for a table outside. The waitress sees Jim and understands, grabbing menus and guiding them to seats where the sun shines and the breeze flows.

The hand holding ends there.

Once again, Josh and Tyler both sit in front of Brendon. It reminds him of their first dinner together, but it's not nearly as menacing as before.

"Jim, sit." Josh orders in a soft tone.

Jim does sit.

Brendon, though, slouches into his chair. He knows is impolite, but so is the amount of anxiety running through him. The waitress is going around the table asking each of them what they'd like to drink, which Josh and Tyler surprisingly order something besides coffee, and Brendon doesn't know what he'd like by the time she's asking him.

The woman stares, and he hates it.

"And you'd like. . .?" It's the second time she's asked. He's embarrassed.

Brendon, still, doesn't say anything though. Now he knows what he wants, but with the way his throat is closing in, he doesn't want to say.

His eyes shift over to Tyler and Josh, and they're both-- he'd assume Tyler is at least, he can't really see their eyes through the sunglasses-- looking at him. Not in the way the waitress is though (irritated and downright bothered) but with some concern. They're watching his problem happen right before them.

Tyler crosses their arms, leaning over the table and closer to Brendon. "What do you want?" They ask him, quietly. Carefully.

Brendon looks down at his hands. "Pepsi," he croaks out, just loud enough for them to hear.

Tyler nods, pulling away and turning the waitress. "Pepsi."

The waitress writes it down in a rush. Afterwards, mumbling that she'll be back in a minute with drinks before her and the heels of her shoes click away loudly. Obnoxiously.

Once she's out of sight, Tyler grumbles, opening their menu. "Fucking cunt." They mutter beneath their breath.

Brendon frowns. "Sorry."

Tyler shakes their head. "It's not your fault. She needs to be patient. She's a god damn waitress, after all, why was that so hard for her." They're still shaking their head, disappointed.

"No. I. . . I just mean I haven't had to do _that_ in a long time. . ." It's pitiful that he's falling back into old habits, really. He thought he'd overcome this by now but he supposed he hasn't, and it's horrible, because Tyler and Josh don't need to treat him like he's a toddler. He's a grown man. "I don't really go out, so I'm never having to, uh, talk with other people."

Josh touches his knee under the table in a terse manner. Brendon needs to focus on him. "If you can't do it, don't. We can order for you, it's okay."

Jim is snuggling his nose into Brendon's leg, it's helping in an odd way.

Josh sits back a bit. "Besides, Tyler's right." He states. "She was disrespectful."

Brendon shrugs. He feels as though he doesn't have a say.

"Would you want us to order for you?" Tyler asks, sunglasses pushed down the bridge of their nose and he can see their eyes for the first time today.

Brendon would like to decline the offer because he almost feels belittled, but he also remembers that it's okay to get help sometimes. That's what his old therapist always used to say, at least. Brendon was never the type to express how he'd really been feeling, and would often fall into a pace too fast for him. It's one of his bad habits, something he does subconsciously.

Tyler and Josh are here to help though, it's fine.

"Okay." He whispers.

"Okay." Tyler replies, concentrating on the menu again.

Brendon pets Jim underneath the table, heart beating loudly as he looks through his own menu.

"All I want is sweet potato fries," it's a joke, but they do sound especially good right now.

Josh chuckles. Maybe Tyler too, he's not sure. "You need to eat more than just that, come on." He's smiling, shaking his head and connecting hands with Tyler without a word. Effortlessly. Naturally. They rest atop the table, Josh's wedding ring gleaming in the sun.

"A hamburger too." He mutters, knowing he definitely wouldn't be able to finish it here, but he'd like to take it home as leftovers for later.

Josh nods.

After a moment, he looks back to Brendon. "You should tell us more about Carina."

He bites his lip at the thought, then winces a bit because his lip is _still_ not fully healed. He needs to stop digging his teeth into it.

He won't.

"Well, um. . ." Brendon's not sure what to say. She's probably the best person he knows. "I mean, she's really nice. I've known her for a few years now, she uh, she helps me out a lot. She knows what to do for everything."

Josh and Tyler both seem pleased with this. Pleased that someone is there to take care of Brendon when they're not, he supposed.

"I told her you guys were coming this weekend. She's excited." He's dreading it.

"You don't seem to feel the same way." Tyler mumbles. It's not harsh, they never are no matter how condescending their tone might be; they're just stating the obvious, and Brendon knows.

He only pets Jim more. "I'm just nervous. It's a lot."

"I'm sure it will be okay. Carina seems really nice." They try.

Brendon shakes his head, though. "No. I mean about. . . My mom." That's all he's worried about. "I know things with Carina will be okay. I just-- you know, my mom is a lot to handle sometimes and I don't want either of you to be, like. . . Uncomfortable or something."

He worries to much, he remembers.

It's hard not to when he's built so much insecurity around his mother.

"Brendon, if you're not ready for us to come over, we won't yet." Josh says, fingers becoming a bit tighter around Tyler's hand. "It's a lot to meet the family, we know. Just take your time with this."

Brendon sighs. "No, I want you to meet her. You need to."

Whoever was about to speak next is cut off by the waitress who's back to tending their table. She passes out drinks, and tosses a few straws onto the table before pulling her notebook out again. "Ready to order?" She questions, dead in the face. Much, much worse than Tyler.

They put the straw into their drink and take a long sip, sunglasses still at the bringe of their nose which only makes them look even more sly. Not in a good way, either.

If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under.

"Are you ready to take it?" Tyler mutters.

The waitress says nothing, only clearing her throat and looking to Josh, who seems overly distraught from the comment their husband just made. Still, he orders, but Brendon shrinks even further into his seat. He'll be down on the ground with Jim soon at this rate.

Afterwards, Tyler says their order and Brendon's with an itch of irritability at the back of their throat.

He wasn't sure why they were so upset with the woman. Brendon is used to this. He deals with this constantly-- impatient people. He needs time that they aren't willing to give, and Tyler isn't willing to accept that.

In a way, it's charming, and in another way, he feels like his old self once again.

People feeling the constant urge to protect him is only comforting for so long, until it's overbearing. Until Brendon has no more control over himself, and he falls into a place where he feels like he'll never be able to do anything for himself again because it has all been given to him.

He wants to work for it. He needs to work for it.

The waitress, who none of them bother to learn the name of, finishes writing their orders and collects the menus. "Need refills before I go?"

"No, thanks." Tyler utters.

She stands there for a moment, blinking, once, twice, before walking away.

Josh watches her, and once she's far enough he immediately turns to Tyler. Jaw clenched, eyes wide. "Do you _want_ her to spit in our food? Stop."

"I don't like her." They respond, taking another sip of their soda.

Josh rolls his eyes. "Really? I couldn't tell."

Tyler says nothing. They pull their hand away from his and begin readjusting their turtleneck, face dull. "Going back to what we were talking about before, Josh and I have been meaning to ask you something."

Josh looks at them once more. "Now?"

They shrug.

Brendon gulps, because really, with the two of them, it could mean anything. He swears that every single possibility runs though his head in just a matter of seconds, and still with the worries, he replies, "Yeah?"

Tyler throws one leg over the other, leaning onto their elbows, eyes boring into Brendon's.

They're too good at intimidation, and he despises it.

"Well, my brother's wedding is coming up at the end of the month." They start, biting their lip for a moment. "But there's just no way we're going to be able to bring Jim, and we're going to be gone for a few days, so I guess what we're trying to ask is if you might be able to look after him while we're gone."

It's not what Brendon's expecting. "I-- well, I-I don't mind but, uh, I can't have him in my apartment. . ."

Tyler nods. "Yeah, I know. We talked about it, and we were saying how you can just stay at our house for the time being."

Then, Brendon's eyes go wide. He hasn't even been there enough to know where everything is. He isn't sure, either, if he'd be okay staying at their house with them away; it's _their_ home and who is he to just stay there-- live there for a few days?

But then it also dawns on him that out of everyone they know, they're asking him. They trust him with something that big.

Past the nerves, it's able to warm his heart.

"Really?" He asks.

Tyler's shoulders lift. "Yeah. I know it's huge responsibility to put on you, but it would mean a lot to us."

Brendon shakes his head, he understands. "No, it's okay."

Josh chimes in this time. "You can do anything you want, we just need to make sure Jim is taken care of while we're away." He states, scratching behind the dog's ear. "We'll show you where the food and stuff is, too. And you can sleep in our bed if you want, it would be kind of shitty to have you on an airmatress for more than a night."

Brendon appreciates the offer, but he thinks he'd much rather prefer a blow-up mattress to a bed with countless stories.

He's not ready.

Brendon nods slowly, processing everything. "When, uh, when would you guys be leaving?"

"We're leaving a day before, so the twenty-sixth." Tyler says. "And we probably won't be back until the twenty-eighth or so."

It's a lot to take in. He knows they're relying on him, really, and that's giving him an endless amount of worry. He doesn't want to mess up. He wants to be everything they need; he just hopes he could fulfill that.

He looks down to Jim, who's as happy as ever. This is for him.

"Yeah. That'd be okay." Brendon says, looking back up at the two of them.

They both smile.

"Awesome." Josh mutters. "Thank you."

Brendon shakes his head, it's the least he could do. They've already done so, so much for him without realizing it.

"We'll go over everything before we leave." Tyler tells him, running a hand over their head. It's grown out a lot since Brendon first met them; there's even enough to run their fingers through now. He wonders if they're going to shave it again but he isn't bothered enough to ask. "Imagine all the TV and Netflix you can catch up on." They add, smiling a little.

Brendon's would be lying if he said that wasn't exciting. No more Family Feud and Cash Cab for a while.

"The twenty-sixth should come sooner." He jokes, cheeks lifted in content.

Josh and Tyler both chuckle, and Brendon would like to hear it on repeat.

After a moment, though, Josh starts to stand, he says, "I'll be right back, I need to use the bathroom." He hands Jim's leash to Tyler, and the dog whimpers as he watches him walk away and back into the restaurant, out of sight.

Jim lays down, tucking his snout between his paws, and his big brown eyes look up at Brendon with a plea that's unclear. The latter frowns, leaning down to pet him, reassuring him Josh will be back soon.

"Yeah, we definitely chose the right person to take care of him." Tyler mutters.

Brendon looks over to them, lips upturned. "I'm going to go back to work with so much dog hair all over me."

Tyler shakes their head. "I have a lint roller in the car if you want to use it before we leave." Instead of drinking their own soda, they drink Josh's. Brendon won't say anything. He'll keep it between them.

"Why do you just have a lint roller. . . In your car. . ."

Tyler looks down at themself, and Brendon looks too. "Have you seen what I'm wearing?" Oh, has he. "Jim's notorious for getting hair all over my clothes. Especially black ones."

Brendon then looks down at his slacks and nearly winces. "Yeah, I'll definitely need that lint roller."

He sits back upright, and Jim doesn't do anything this time.

He'll be okay.

Josh's camera is sitting on the table, it had been hanging around his neck for a while but Brendon never really paid mind to it until now. He almost forgets what Josh does for a living, and honestly, he's curious.

"You've never seen any of his work, have you?" Tyler asks. They notice everything.

Brendon shakes his head.

"He doesn't just do family photos. Other people pay him for his work, to take pictures of them for social media and things like that." They tell him, rubbing their shoulder. "Models, influencers. He's worked with a lot of really cool people. He gets so happy about it, too. He'll come home and show me the photoshoots he did that day, and he's always so proud of them."

Brendon likes when the two of them talk about each other. He gets to see them in a different light. "Do you think he'll show me soon?"

Tyler's features lift a bit. "I'm kind of surprised he hasn't yet. Or taken any of you. He does it all the time."

Brendon doesn't understand why he'd take any of him.

"Does he take pictures of you?" If so, he wants to see them. Maybe Josh has captured something he can't see in person.

Tyler rolls their eyes, trying to bite the smile off their face. "All the time. He has a folder on his computer full of the pictures he's taken of me." They chuckle, cheeks tinted in just the smallest bit of pink. "And one of Jim, too. Josh is such a dork."

"I'm a what now?" Josh is back at the table, sitting down with his eyebrows furrowed.

Tyler stares lazily into his eyes, still leaning on their hand. "A dork."

He hums. "But you love it."

Tyler smiles fully this time. "Definitely."

They're leaning forward and before Brendon knows it, they're kissing. It doesn't last very long, but it's still enough for his heart to pump faster. Tyler rests their head on Josh's shoulder, and instead of holding hands again, they latch pinkies beneath the table. It's subtle, but loving. An act to keep them both grounded.

Tyler's sunglasses cover their eyes again, yet Brendon would say they're looking at him. "Do you think I'd be able to stay with you at your Mom's this weekend? I don't have much to do and I'd rather be with you than at home not doing shit." They're definitely looking at him.

Brendon's stomach churns. He didn't know if he could even handle the two of them visiting for a few hours, but for Tyler to stay with him the entire weekend?

_Fuck_ , is all he can process.

His Adam's apple bobs. "Are you. . . Are you sure?"

"If it's alright with you." They say.

It's not about him, it's about his mom. She could be very overwhelming sometimes; he didn't want Tyler to have to witness that, because surely they will if they're there a full weekend.

"I just don't want you to have to see everything that happens." Brendon whispers, fiddling with the napkin in front of him.

Tyler reaches for his hand with their unaccompanied one, holding onto it with a steady grip. Brendon's nearly heaving.

"I know it's a lot, but it could be really good for us." Their touch is tender. "Do you trust me?"

Brendon chest rises and falls sharply, stomach aching. He still nods. "Yes."

"Then you know that I'll be there for you, and I'm not going to judge whatever happens." They speak calmly, but it's not the same reaction his entire body is getting. His cheeks and ears both burn. "You're a really good person, and going with you this weekend isn't going to change my mind. It might just make me feel that way even more."

Brendon can see why Josh is in love with Tyler.

It also makes him realize the amount of moral support he's lacking at the retirement home. Yes, Carina is there, but only when his mother is willing to leave her room.

Tyler would be there the entire time, and it's terrifying, but also reassuring.

Brendon looks down at their hands. "Please, come with me."

Tyler rubs their thumb across his knuckles, he's postive they're noticing the color of them, now. "Okay."

From there, it's settled.

They pull their hands apart once the waitress come back with food, and the three of them fall into a steady rhythm as they converse. It's never been easy for Brendon, so knowing the simplicity of every word warms his heart to no extent. It's becoming comfortable without force, it's becoming solace. It's what he needs, what he craves, what he desires, and he's living in it.

Jim whines at their feet every now and then, and every now and then, Brendon's sneaking him food under the table.

Casualty is becoming clear, and to Brendon, that's an achievement.


	28. Verbal

Lunch went well, and it's nearly shocking.

Yes, Brendon never finished his food because the ache in his stomach wasn't agreeing, and yes, his heart never slowed down since they got there, but it didn't matter. He had to pretend the table they sat at was full seclusion, because now is his time to spend with Tyler and Josh, and he shouldn't hold himself back by the fear that people beside them would be listening.

He tries his hardest to let loose.

After a while of sneaking Jim food under the table, Josh notices too. Tyler probably did as well, but he already knows they wouldn't say anything even though Brendon definitely shouldn't be doing it.

" _Brendon_ ," Josh had scolded him.

He blushes, and nonetheless stops. He's sure Jim got enough, anyways.

It's not long before the three of them are finished, Brendon getting a to-go box, and Tyler not leaving without giving the waitress one last dirty glare.

They walk side, by side, by side, it works out and Tyler does lend Brendon the lint roller like they said they would once reaching their car. In the meantime, while he cleans all the hair from his slacks, Josh is pouring Jim some water into a small portable dog bowl.

"He was supposed to go home and have lunch but I'm not sure he should anymore because of all the food you gave him." Josh laughs, petting the dog's head as he drinks.

Brendon frowns. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's alright. We've just been trying to teach him not to take food from the table and stuff, so you doing that is going to confuse him."

Brendon understands. He nods, giving Tyler the lint roller back mindlessly. "Yeah. Sorry. I won't do it again."

Maybe.

Jim finishes drinking the water, and Josh helps him into the backseat after getting a few good scratches behind his ear as a goodbye. Everyone is departing; Tyler and Josh hug him at the same time. Again, Tyler's pressed behind him, and again, Brendon's in the middle between the two of them.

"See you soon." Josh mutters.

He then chuckles when noticing Tyler's looking directly at him. Facing him over Brendon's shoulder.

Still, they're towering over both of them.

Josh and Tyler kiss, too, right in Brendon's ear, and it's enough for him to want to pull away. He does, clearing his throat and tugging at the skin of his knuckles again. "See you soon." He mumbles back, staring at them both for a moment before walking away in a rush.

He's not sure why them being demonstrative makes him so shook up, but it does. The constant feeling to flee from the situation settles every time, and really, it shouldn't. They're married. In love. Have been together for countless years. Something simple like kissing shouldn't shake him up, _but it does._ It will. It has.

He still cannot wrap him mind around the entire idea that both of them are perfectly fine being with another person, doing the same with them as they do with each other. Kissing, touching, hugging-- even fucking.

Brendon doesn't understand.

He's scared of that. Scared of what's to come, because it's only a matter of time before they're doing the same with him.

It's already started. Touching. Hugging. He knows things are coming, and he also knows he's not ready. He needs to talk to them, like Josh said he could, he's just not sure when.

Brendon thinks about this on the way back to work.

***

Wednesday afternoon is a lot different than any typical one. Brendon and Luke sit together in the breakroom, both with Cup 'O Noodle and a drink, conversation light enough to get through. It's fine, normal, casual, until Ryan and Ryland pull up seats and ask: "Would it be okay if we sat here?"

Luke gives them a weary look, continuing to eat his food wordlessly.

Brendon's head tilts. "Where's Debby?"

Ryan shrugs. "She's got Wednesdays off now. I forget why." He looks to Ryland, wondering if he knows, but it seems like he doesn't either.

They both look back to Brendon.

"Uh, yeah. Then that'd be fine." He mutters.

So they sit, Ryland beside Brendon and Ryan at the end. It's quiet for a while, everyone getting situated and taking a few bites of their food-- along with Luke waiting for one of them to speak, to examine, make a conclusion about the two of them-- before anything really happens.

It's Ryland who asks, "So how's Josh?" Looking at Brendon with wide eyes and a smile.

The latter glances towards Luke for a moment, gauging his reaction, and he seems a bit shocked that they know about Josh. Maybe it _is_ shocking; Brendon's almost in disbelief himself that he told them. But, he found comfort in their openness. Especially Ryland's.

Brendon shrugs. "He's good. I went and had lunch with him on Monday, he brought his dog."

Ryland gasps. "He has a dog?"

Brendon chuckles, smiling a bit. "Yeah. His name is Jim."

"Oh, my god." He mutters. "That's so cute. What breed is he?"

"Golden retriever."

"Oh, my god!" Ryland is almost squealing. Today, he's being especially talkative with his hands. Or maybe he always has. "Shane and I have two dogs, Uno and Honey."

"Don't forget about Cheeto. He's my favorite." Ryan mumbles.

"You're bias."

Ryan rolls his eyes, continuing to eat his sandwich.

"Do either of you guys have any animals?" Ryland wonders, asking Luke and Brendon specifically. Brendon's glad they're including Luke as well, because he should be just as much in this conversation as anyone else.

"Uh, they're not allowed in my apartment." He wished they were. Brendon really could use someone, something.

Everyone turns to Luke. "Oh." He finishes chewing his mouth full of noodles. "My girlfriend's allergic to dogs, so I can't really have them in the house." His shoulders lift as he speaks, but Brendon's eyes widen drastically at the information.

"Wait. . . You have a girlfriend? I-I didn't know."

Luke purses his lips together. "I guess it just never came up. I've been with her for a few years now."

Brendon feels like a horrible friend. These are things friends should know about each other, aren't they? One of the biggest parts of someone's life is their partner, or lack of, and yet he didn't know something that important about him.

They even live together.

He's too caught up making things about himself. It's something he does subconsciously.

"What's her name?" He asks.

"Emma." Luke grins widely at the thought.

Brendon nods. "How. . . How long have you guys been living together?"

"About a year now-- well, in our house." He runs a hand through his hair, leaning onto his hand afterwards. "We were living in an apartment together for a while but it wasn't working out. Her brother's just. . . not in a good state, so he stays over a lot."

Brendon frowns. "I can't believe I didn't know that, I'm sorry."

Lukas shakes his head. "It's my fault for not talking about it."

The conversation passes, and the four of them fall into an easy enough rhythm. Brendon supposed Ryland and Ryan were growing on Luke, because instead of being weary, he welcomes their input and friendship. He's glad, because really, they were growing on him too.

Time passes and Luke gets off his break, bidding a "see you later," to each of them.

As soon as he's out of the breakroom, Ryan says, "I like him."

Brendon nods. "I like him too."

"He only just started working here not too long ago, right?" Ryland then questions, taking a sip of, once again, another coconut LaCroix. Maybe it's like Josh and Tyler with their coffee.

"Yeah." Brendon replies. "He said he was being mentored for a while. I don't know."

"He's young, isn't he?" Ryan wonders.

Brendon knows they mean young _er_ , because they definitely aren't very old. Luke is just evidently less grown when it comes to mannerisms compared to the rest of them. It's nothing bad, he has full freedom to be young, maybe Brendon is just too caught up with the future to think about the now.

"Twenty-two, I think."

"Damn. And he's already living in a house with his girlfriend." Ryland shakes his head in shock, texting someone. "I was living by myself until like a year or so ago."

Brendon nods, he finished his food a while ago. "Yeah. I-I didn't even know."

Ryland shrugs. "Good for him, though."

"Definitely."

It goes quiet again, Ryan and Ryland both on their phones. It's okay. This is their time to spend how ever they'd like, and he's sure they've missed a lot since they first came in.

Brendon doesn't really understand what it's like to constantly stress about the activity on his phone, because really, there's very little. Josh and Tyler text him throughout the day, and sometimes Carina as well, but that's it. The only social media he has is Facebook, and even then, he's never checking it because he doesn't see the need to. And, he still has Tinder. Which he should definitely delete by now.

Things are going very well with Tyler and Josh, he'd say.

It's promising.

"Have you gave any thought about going out with us one night?" Ryan asks. "You should bring Josh if you want, too. That'd be cool."

Brendon doesn't know how to let him down easy. There's just no way he'd ever go out with them. Whether it's a club or bar, he couldn't do it and he won't put himself through that. Even if Josh was there, even if Tyler was there, it wouldn't help him.

There's only so much he could do with moral support.

"It's just not something I'm into doing, I'm sorry." He mutters.

Ryan waves his hand. "It's okay, it's not for everyone."

Brendon hums, biting his cheek. Cheek. "Shane is alright with you going out?" It's directed towards Ryland.

He tucks his phone away at the question, turning to face him. "I mean, yeah. He knows I'm not going to do anything. He's my boyfriend. If I did anything with someone else, that's just fucked up."

Maybe Brendon shouldn't have asked, because his throat is instantly getting tighter as he spoke. His jaw clenches a bit too, only because in his situation with Tyler and Josh, he is that other person. But the differences is, they're okay with that. They crave that.

Tyler and Josh's situation is a lot different than others, Brendon is well aware.

"Yeah." Is all he could get out at first. "I'm gonna. . . I'm gonna head back. It was nice talking to you guys."

They don't seem to notice the tension like Tyler or Josh might of. "Okay, see you later."

Brendon tries his hardest to relax for the rest of the time spent at work. He almost feels dirty because of what Ryland had said, and this time, he's not sure whether he should or shouldn't.

***

To say Brendon's motive as soon as he got home wasn't to get high, is a lie.

He changes out from his clothes and switches them to something more comfortable, which also happens to be pair of gym shorts and a large hoodie. This is normal for him. He'd wear it all the time if he could.

Today, he wants a joint. His pen seemed like too little and a bowl seemed like too much. He settles with rolling it on the coffee table, sat on the floor like he did with Josh and Tyler last Friday, and focusing on doing it well enough no matter how difficult that was proven to be because of his trembling hands.

In the end, he manages.

It's not his best, but also not his worst, so he counts it as a victory.

Brendon puts the joint between his lips and lights the twisted end, inhaling ease for the first time that day. He keeps too many things pent up, he knows, so maybe that's why an abrupt sob comes from his mouth after exhaling. His forehead falls to his knee, sniffling desperately. He's tired of this happening. He's tired of being so unbelievably terrified.

There's plenty of things to cry about today, but he's pretty sure this time it's about Tyler and Josh coming over to the retirement home.

The weekend keeps getting closer and closer, and so is his breaking point.

Or maybe this is his breaking point.

His lip wobbles as he takes another hit, shaking his head to himself and allowing the tears to have their release, as well.

Really, the last thing he wanted right now is to have them witness the complete and utter heartbreak he has to go through weekly. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to stay the entire weekend and go through it with him.

Tyler is a lot more brave than he is.

It's his own mother and he could barely maintain himself, but they're volunteering.

It's a respectable gesture, and Brendon couldn't say no. He needs someone there, he knows he does, so it was a mixed opportunity for the both of them.

He worries Tyler will build a strong dislike towards him, some way, somehow, though. He wouldn't understand how it'd happen, but to Brendon, anything is possible no matter how obscure it is.

He remembers what they said, _promised_ , on Monday.

It's enough to help, at least a little.

They do care for him. Both of them do. And it's a feeling he's not used to, so the hesitance with everything makes sense.

He takes another drag, sniffling again.

His phone vibrates against the table. He's sober enough to understand where it's coming from this time, and he's sober enough to still get worried. He picks up the phone, and it's Josh, wanting to video call.

Brendon sits on the floor with a joint in hand and tears on his cheeks.

This isn't good.

He leans forward to wipe his face off with his hoodie, pulling the joint out of sight. Why was Josh so adamant about video calling lately?

Nonetheless, Brendon answers.

"Hello?" He says, almost instinctively taking another hit. He doesn't.

Josh's face fills the screen again, he smiles. "Hey."

Brendon purses his lips. He really hopes he wouldn't notice anything's off. "What's up?" Josh and Tyler may know he uses medical marijuana now, but that doesn't mean he wants to do it actively around them.

"Nothing much. We've just been going through a bunch of old pictures." He shrugs, looking at something off camera. It's Tyler, they come into view and sit on Josh's leg, grabbing his face.

"And Josh is growing out his beard again." They mutter.

"What?" Brendon emits.

Josh rolls his eyes, chuckling airily. "They want me to bring back my beard, so I guess I'm doing that." Tyler's leaning forward and kissing his cheek, then nose, and afterwards, his forehead.

"It's sexy." They say.

"Am I not sexy now?" Josh fake frowns.

Tyler smiles, looking down at him. "You're the sexiest."

Brendon blinks a few times, clearing his throat and taking another drag absentmindedly. Without realizing. He wants to be stoned already.

Of course, he accidentally draws more attention to himself by coughing loud and clear, smoke fleeing from his mouth in a hoard. When he opens his eyes, Tyler and Josh are both looking at him through the phone. He kind of just wants to cry again.

"I'm sorry." He whispers.

"For what?" Josh wonders.

Brendon huffs, shaking his head. "I didn't know you were going to call. I wouldn't of started smoking if I did."

It's quiet it for a moment; he's being stared at as he sits there in shame. Tyler's holding onto Josh's shoulders, resting their head and legs on him now, and Josh messes with their fingers.

"It's okay, you know?" Josh says. "There's nothing wrong with smoking pot for medical purposes. Fuck, I used to smoke it all the time, and it wasn't even medical. It's not my place to judge."

Brendon wants to be surprised by the information, but he's also not. He has been told Tyler and Josh went to frat parties when they were younger, isn't that what everyone does there? Gets fucked up? He wouldn't know, but he could only imagine.

"I just feel like it's disrespectful." He mumbles, still, smoking his joint anyways.

"It's not." Josh declares. "Do what you need to do, okay?"

Brendon nods, closing his eyes. He's coming down from a sky full of misfortune.

"That reminds me," Tyler speaks up. "While you're over here when we're gone for the wedding, if you need to do that, could you do it in the backyard?" They're asking gently, which is good for Brendon right now, because that's the track he wants to be on.

"Yeah, of course." He rests his phone against the ashtray so he didn't have to hold it anymore.

"And, also, what should I be packing for the weekend?" They're clinging to Josh, and Brendon kind of wants to do the same.

"Clothes." He utters, then laughs because it's obvious.

Tyler rolls their eyes. "No. I was planning on going naked."

Brendon finally opens his eyes again, looking at them. It reminds him of when he saw them at the coffee shop a while back after the night Josh bombarded them in the shower. He couldn't stop thinking about them naked then, and now it's happening again.

He's not sure what to even picture, though.

Brendon clears his throat, taking a long, long drag. "Uh, but, you know. Toothbrush and. . . Other stuff you need."

Tyler hums. "Yeah, I guess that was obvious."

Brendon says nothing, he's almost to the end of his joint and he's definitely feeling it now. He can barely think straight, but Tyler's small hum rings in his head, on repeat. It's like he'll hear it forever.

"Jim misses you." Josh suddenly tells him.

Brendon takes his last hit before stubbing the roach away. He holds in the smoke for a second, then exhaling nice and slow. "I miss him most. It's a fact." He shrugs.

"I think he just misses all the food you give him." Josh jokes.

Maybe it's a little embarrassing, but Brendon giggles. He knows he most likely wouldn't stop sneaking the dog food because he doesn't have the willpower for that, so, naturally, he's becoming the fun one out of the three of them. It's no surprise Jim misses him.

"Mhm. Probably." He titters once more.

Brendon supposed his good mood is rubbing off on Tyler and Josh, because they're both smiling too.

"We're trying to keep him in check-- it's not fair you just come along and give him a bunch of food and become his favorite." Josh shakes his head, pulling Tyler closer to him until they're sat in his lap. "Stupid Jim."

Brendon almost gasps. "He's not _stupid_ , he just has priorities!"

He remembers now why he doesn't smoke a whole joint by himself very often, he can't stop laughing for the life of him. Deep down, he knows he'd be embarrassed beyond words if he was sober, but he isn't, and the thought makes him even more giddy.

"Why are you laughing?" Josh is laughing too. It's only encouraging him.

Brendon stops a moment, shrugging, and falling into a fit of laughter again. He might be worried to have the two of them come over to the retirement home this weekend, but that won't stop him from feeling an overwhelming amount of happiness remembering that soon, he's going to have them around again. A video call is nice, but when Tyler holds his hand and Josh leans his head onto his shoulder, it's even better. It probably sounds odd, but both of their touches have become Brendon's comfort source, and he wished they would do it all the time.

He craved affection unannounced, and they fed it to him.

The thought scares him more often than not, and yes, Brendon's stoned out of his mind right now, but he can't wait for Tyler and Josh to touch him again. Whether it be his hand, or a quick tap at his thigh. He finds solace in it all.

For right now, Tyler and Josh can't give him any physical contact, but that doesn't stop them from touching his heart tonight.

They stay on call longer than expected, and none of them mind.

They all miss each other, not just Jim.


	29. Steps

Ryland and Ryan don't sit with Luke and Brendon on Thursday or Friday, and it's okay, no one expected it to happen. Debby's back, which means the barrier between them is as well.

Brendon's been quiet this past week. Quieter than normal, at least. Usually, he'd have a nice discussion during lunch with Luke, but recently, he barely opens his mouth. He knows why, and he also knows he probably shouldn't keep to himself because in the long run, it's going to tear him down; he's just not used to having people besides Carina there for him when he needs it.

Truthfully, Luke really is just his friend at work. Brendon could never see himself spending time with him outside of here. He isn't sure whether Luke feels the same way or not, but because he himself feels that way, it's enough to stay closed off.

He doesn't speak very often this week because today is Friday, and tomorrow is Saturday. A day-- a weekend he has been dreading.

He'd like to tell Luke, but he already knows he'd ask why he is so worried, and that's a question he isn't willing to answer.

So, Brendon stays quiet, and Luke tries his best to keep the flow steady.

It's works as well as it can.

***

When Brendon comes home from work, Hayley and Jack are outside for no particular reason, it seems. They sit at the bench Brendon sat at when they first introduced themselves, Jack playing with a few monster truck toys while his mother talks on the phone.

He tries to pass by unnoticed, but that was proven impossible. Jack lights up at the sight of him, jumping off the seat and running towards Brendon.

"Hello!" He exclaims, nose and cheeks pinched red. It's chilly.

Brendon gulps, looking down at him. "Uh, hi."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Jack then asks, a lot quieter than before. Must be serious.

Brendon glances over to Hayley, who sees her son with him and is trying to get off the phone as quickly as possible to join them. Maybe scold Jack again, he seems to run off a lot.

He looks back down, nodding.

Jack smiles in return, gesturing Brendon with a wave to come down to his height, which he does do. The boy comes close, cupping a hand around his ear and says, "I asked Momma if we can make you cookies, and she said yes. She told me not to tell you, but I have no one else to tell!" He pulls away after that, looking up at Brendon with big eyes.

He has a soft spot for kids, it's no secret.

"Well, now it's not a surprise." He mutters, pursing his lips.

Jack frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. "You still want the cookies, don't you?"

Brendon doesn't even need to think about it. "You're right, I do."

"Mhm, that's what I thought." He nods, all-knowing. "What's your favorite?" 

Brendon shrugs. "Chocolate chip."

Jack's brows pull together at the information, arms still crossed, and still holding a bit of spunk to them. "Chocolate chip? Aren't grown ups supposed to like the gross weird stuff like. . . _Raisin_?"

Brendon chuckles at his tone, not having time to answer because Hayley comes over to them, shaking her head as she runs a hand through her son's hair. "Sorry, _again_. He just gets distracted easily."

Brendon's sober this time around, so really, this feels like their first greeting. Hayley's looking at him, and he's looking at her, wondering what his next move should be. He'd rather sink to the ground and become one with the puddle beside them, but he can't do that, so for now, he swallows thickly and breathes in enough to speak.

"It's okay, I get it." He wants to curl up in bed at this time.

Hayley doesn't know how to reply, it's obvious. She holds onto Jack's shoulders and sways a bit, eyes casting downwards with a nod.

Brendon clears his throat, heart in his ears. "See you," he mumbles, waving a goodbye and rushing inside. 

He needed to flee.

Maybe it's rude, or maybe she understands. For once, he can't find himself being bothered by this. Instead, he gets into his apartment and undresses immediately; shoes off, shirt unbuttoned, tie loose, and pants wrinkled.

He needs to shower, because he tries to avoid using the bathroom at his mother's as much as possible. In order to get to it, it involves going through her room and he doesn't want to be disruptive. Or he worries he'll miss something dire as he spends his time washing away the worries. He's not so sure.

Brendon actually makes an effort to keep things cleaned; he throws everything into the laundry basket and finds clothes to rest in.

It's the same thing as always.

The bathroom is colder than the rest of the apartment and he shivers once he's completely naked. As he waits for the water to warm, he notices how much his hips are jutting out. More than normal, and he wants to be concerned, but he already knows it's because he rarely eats enough anymore. It feels incapable with the way his stomach churns and throat closes.

Brendon can't help but wonder if he'd ever meet up with Josh and Tyler's standards.

He's less attractive as the days go by, and the weaker he becomes, the less of a man he seems as well. He's sure Tyler and Josh want someone who would be willing to protect them if he could, view as though he's built solely of testosterone and nothing more. But that's not Brendon. He's frail, and can only puff out his chest for so long. His hips are prominent like the rest of his bones.

Feeble, he is, unlike either of them.

Worrying about his appearance is nothing new, especially when he's seeing someone. Especially when he's seeing more than just someone.

The insecurities come full force when a love interest is involved. He wants to be good enough for them, in every aspect, and he knows-- he's certain-- appearance has so much to do with that.

Truly, will he be incompetent?

Brendon tries his hardest not to think about it, but it's hard when he spends the next twenty minutes focusing on something he's trying to forget. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, praying that if he does it hard enough it will make everything wither away.

It doesn't work, but he tries.

He changes into his clothes and makes it to bed after drying off.

It isn't late, yet he's ready to sleep. He gets comfortable with the blankets pulled up his body and doesn't bother putting his glasses on for the rest of the night. He checks his phone instead, flushing a bit when seeing a text from Tyler.

**Come over tomorrow morning before we leave. I want to make you breakfast again.**

Brendon takes note that they're rather demanding. It isn't bad, though.

**What time?**

Really, however long he can stay away from the retirement is however long it will be. Going to Tyler and Josh's seems like a perfect opportunity to calm down a bit before taking one of the biggest steps he's having to make.

A few moments pass, but Tyler responds.

**Whenever you'd like.**

**It doesn't have to be as early as last time. We can skip out on breakfast at the retirement home tomorrow.**

**Is 9 alright?**

Skipping out on breakfast also means more time spent away from the place he has been dreading to visit again. It means being able to spend time with Tyler and Josh without having to worry what his mother might say next, or if Carina would slip with pronouns.

He just needs some solace right now.

**We'll see you then.**

**Omelets?**

Brendon knows anything they cook would be much better than whatever it may be from the home, so he'd say yes no matter what.

**Yummy.**

And that's how the conversation ends. He doesn't mind, because he could really use some sleep right now. Tomorrow will be a long, long day, and so will the day after that. He's not sure there's anything he could do in order to prepare himself for what's to come, so he tries to get a good night's rest in the meantime.

***

Brendon hasn't woken up feeling like _this_ in a long time. The first thing he thinks about when opening his eyes is what the day holds before him. Nothing but a thick lump forms in his throat, and he quickly rips the blankets off of himself or else he might suffocate.

"Fuck," he whispers, running a hand through his hair. Fuck, because, _fuck_.

He wakes up a little after eight o'clock, which doesn't give him enough time for anything. He still needed to pack his bag for this weekend, and now, he already knows things aren't going to go well for himself.

Brendon stands with a wobble to his knees and a dizziness in his head, making his way to the bathroom.

He spends this time doing his hair and brushing his teeth, nearly heaving as it happens. Staring at himself in the mirror doesn't help either, he picks himself apart until he's torn down.

Sometimes, it feels like there's two different people. His anxiety does that to him. It lingers over his shoulder and plays with him by strings like a puppet, leaning into his ear and whispering stuff that only he could hear. Things that destroy him both inside and out, and it shows. His body trembles by the time he makes it out of the restroom, and it only gets worse as he packs his bag.

This isn't the state Brendon wants Josh and Tyler to see him in.

He can feel _it_ coming, and he already knows if he doesn't let it out before he heads over to their house, it will most definitely happen while he's there.

He can't let that happen. He won't. 

When Brendon called Josh during one of his severe panic attacks last month, that was hard on its own. It was through the phone, too, he can't even imagine how embarrassing it'd be for it to happen in person.

Josh and Tyler would feel pity for him, _poor Brendon can't ever just be okay._

The truth is, he can't. But that's not surprising. Especially when it comes to something so unbelievably vulnerable for him, it's hard for him to ever feel comfortable. That's his mother they're going to meet; someone who he's kept protected, someone who has no form of sensibility anymore.

Tyler and Josh have seen him at low points, but never this low.

Brendon attempts to hold off, but it's nearly nine and he doesn't want to have either of them thinking he wouldn't show up. So, he slings the bag around his shoulder and locks up the apartment, deciding it's best to put others before himself for once.

 

It's well over nine when he has the audacity to actually show up. He feels horrible, it's just that simple.

Brendon leaves his bag inside his car and finally gets out-- he'd been sitting in the parking space at his apartment building for over twenty minutes before driving to their house-- trying to sort things out in his head and make it clear to himself it would all go well. It didn't work, because he could never be certain it _would_ go well, but he sat there anyways.

Finally, though, he's standing in front of the door. He can already feel tears brimming his eyes so he bounces back and on forth on his heels to keep himself steady.

Brendon knocks softly, timidly. Maybe if they didn't hear him, it'd be an excuse to drive back home.

That plan is long gone in a matter of seconds, because Josh opens the door with one of his signature wide smiles. "Hey, what took you so long?"

Brendon caves. It's expected.

Nothing comes out other than a meek whimper; he burrows himself into Josh's chest abruptly, clinging onto his shirt and pushing his nose deep into his shoulder with a sniffle, then a cry. He's so full of guilt he couldn't even look Josh in the eyes for more than a moment without breaking down.

"Brendon-- Brendon, what's wrong?" He sounds panicked, but Brendon wins in that category. 

Josh grips onto the fabric around his waist and keeps him close, one hand low and the other in between his shoulder blades to ground him. Josh huffs against his neck and it sends chills down his spine, making him tremble even more than before.

Brendon can only shake his head frantically as a response, it seems.

He's so embarrassed.

Josh understands, realizing he's not going to get anything like this. He nods in return. "Come inside," he whispers, trying his hardest to be delicate.

He has to lead Brendon himself once he gets a yes, hand placed at the dip in his lower back while the other holds onto his wrist. They walk at an odd angle because of Brendon still resting his head into the crook of his neck, but they manage.

They sit together in the livingroom, Josh pulling him so close he's practically on his lap but that's the last thing he's worrying about right now. He focuses on the one hand moving up and down his back, as well as the other which is wiping the tears as they come, instead.

"Can you tell me what's wrong now?" Josh asks, quietly.

Brendon only whimpers, pressing his face into Josh's chest opposed to his neck. His breathing is irregular, and his pulse is sporadic.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm-I'm. . . I'm sorry." He's panting it out, nails nearly digging through the shirt it grabs onto.

Josh cradles his head. "What are you apologizing for?"

Brendon's heart is so loud he almost doesn't catch it. He heaves against him, getting more and more lightheaded with every breath he pushes out.

He has a hard time making out any words. "Just-- I just. . ." He let's out a loud sob. "I didn't mean-- I didn't mean to-to-to. . ." Brendon's not even sure himself if he knows what he's trying to say. He's asking to be forgiven because it's horrible of him to put this kind of pressure on Josh, practically forcing him to help as much as he could.

He's selfish.

Josh replies with nothing. Instead, he hears Tyler's voice. "Josh, asking him what's wrong isn't going to help him calm down." They mutter.

Brendon looks up from Josh's chest and connects eyes with them, his brows are pulled together and he's crying hysterically against their husband; undeniably looking beyond miserable.

Tyler grabs one of his hands. "Do you want me to hold you?" They question, no hesitance in their voice and it makes his entire body go hot. He looks at them; they're looking at each other with so much certainty he might just faint then and there.

Brendon nods, quickly, pulling away from Josh and instead laying against Tyler once they sit down in the corner of the couch. Chest to back, heart to heart. Their arms wrap around him in just seconds, and he grips onto them as his eyes close once again.

"Tighter or looser?" They whisper.

"Tigher." He mumbles back, head tilting until it rests against their shoulder.

Tyler's grasp does become tighter, and it's relieving.

Brendon's caught off guard though when he hears them quietly counting to three, breathing in, and then counting to three once again, exhaling. Repeatedly. It's in his ear, and he assumes it's to guide him with breathing himself because of how much he's hyperventilating, so he tries to do it with them.

They do it together.

Jim is snuggling his snout into his leg as some kind of reassurance that it will be okay, and when Brendon opens his eyes, Josh looks at him with a sad smile. He reaches out, the two of them connecting hands wordlessly. It's okay. This is okay. Josh caressing his skin and Tyler's breath against his neck is all okay. They're helping him overcome another bump in the road, a bump that surely comes with more in the long run.

Brendon's breathing pattern hiccups, but he's getting there.

"Tyler," he murmurs, Adam's apple bobbing.

They stop counting for a moment, looking down at him. "Yeah?"

It's a stupid question, but Brendon learnt last month this had calmed him down, too. "Can you. . . Can you sing to me?" It's comes out quietly, scared, maybe he's asking for too much.

Tyler doesn't respond for a second. They look to Josh, then back down at him. "Will that help you?"

Brendon nods, he needed a distraction right now. Badly.

Tyler sighs, not because of frustration but because they're unsure, and it's understandable. Really, he's asking for a lot from them.

"Do you like Elvis?" They ask.

Brendon nods, again. He doesn't feel the need to use his voice right now. It'd waver and break with every word, and he's more comfortable just keeping quiet. He knows with them, it's okay. They do the same thing.

Tyler clears their throat, and nonetheless, starts singing softly. They're humming at first but ease into it, gently rocking themself and Brendon side to side as his chest rises and falls in a clash.

His eyes close again, this is where he needed to be.

It isn't long before Josh feels as though he wants to be closer, and Brendon doesn't mind as he presses his back against his chest just like him and Tyler. He holds both of Brendon's hands now, making sure he could fit his thumb between every knuckle. The two of them listen to Tyler sing without a word being passed, enjoying this moment because Brendon is pretty sure being in this frantic state has put Josh into one as well, accidentally.

He wants to apologize again.

He doesn't.

Brendon thought being this intimate with Tyler and Josh would only make him more anxious, but really, it's calming him down tremendously. He finds himself no longer heaving the longer they sit there, and a new round of tears never come.

He figures out that Tyler's talented at something else besides warming his heart, and although he wished they would just continue to sing forever, they do stop eventually.

They brush his hair back. "Are you nervous about today?" They ask once he's finally settled enough.

He swallows, nodding.

Josh grips his hands tighter. "We don't have to do it this weekend if you aren't ready for that."

Brendon's immediately shaking his head. "No. If we don't do it now, it's only going to be worse next time." It's true. Stalling never did him any good, yet he does it often. Maybe torturing himself is the only form of entertainment he gets nowadays.

Tyler's fingers run through his hair, once, twice, before pulling away. "Are you feeling better now?"

Brendon breathes deeply. "Yeah."

Good enough, at least.

"Want to eat breakfast? I made bacon. I was waiting for you to be here before making the omelets." He's glad the conversation is changing. Really, he's embarrassed because _that_ just happened in front of them. The only thing keeping him from feeling completely overwhelmed by this is the fact that it he knows it wasn't in front of them, it was with them; they coped together, in a way.

"Breakfast, please." He speaks with a sense of delicacy, all of them have been this morning.

Tyler nods, releasing their hold on his chest and moving in a way that indicates to both of them _get up._ The three of them do, Josh letting go of Brendon's hands, and Brendon emitting a trembling huff as he stands.

Soon enough, everyone makes their way into the kitchen, including Jim.

Brendon bites his cheek as he watches Tyler walk in front of him, eyebrows pulling together. Tyler's-- Tyler looks different today. Tyler's wearing. . . Casual clothes today. They have on jeans and a black t-shirt.

That's it.

It's unusual, really. Brendon sits on the chair at the counter and tilts his head at them. "Your clothes, they're. . . They're different."

Tyler seems confused for a moment but then looks down at themself. "Oh, yeah." They look back up at him, shaking their head with a lift to their shoulders. "I didn't want to scare anyone over there." They chuckle a little, it relieves the tension there may have been.

Brendon cracks a smile. "They'll forget about it faster than you know."

They nod. "You're right." Then, shrugging, and grabbing the paper plate with bacon.

They hand some to Brendon.

As soon as he takes a bite though, he's frowning. "Are you sure this is bacon?"

Josh and Tyler both laugh, allowing him to really breathe. He didn't want to ruin their chances of having a good day because he can't keep himself under control, but that doesn't seem like a problem at all right now. He's thankful.

"It's turkey bacon," Tyler states.

"Oh." He continues eating it, keeping to himself. He watches the two of them instead, a dynamic he could get used to seeing.

Tyler begins cooking the omelets, and Josh is there at their side helping with anything they need. Whether it was them asking for butter or if he could crack some more eggs, he does it, no complaints, just pressing kisses at the nape of their neck afterwards. Josh looks at them like they're everything in one being, and maybe they are. He leans against the counter and just _stares_ , observing, idolizing. Brendon wonders if he does this all the time.

He quickly, though, realizes he's doing the exact same thing.

A subtle blush rises to his cheeks, because there's no denying his interest in Tyler. Or Josh. Or the two of them together. The yearning in Josh's body language is so loud it's almost yelling; it's obvious he just wants to touch them. Hang on them. Hold them. Do _something_ with them. And maybe he's holding back because of Brendon being there, but it's so obvious, surely no one in the room is missing it. Not even Tyler.

At the thought, they look to Josh. "Coffee." They mumble.

He understands, trailing his fingers across their back while walking past them, over to the coffee maker and beginning to make some just like every morning.

Tyler then glances over to Brendon. "Try to eat all your food today, yeah?"

Brendon shrinks in on himself.

They've noticed.

"I'll try." He whispers, eyes casting downwards the longer Tyler keeps their gaze on him.

Finally, though, their focus is lead to the food once again. "Don't eat it all if you can't. I'm just saying, never finishing your food isn't any good for you." Today, they've taken on the role to protect him, and it's evident.

Maybe it isn't so bad, because he could use guidance, but he's also his own person. He can do everything himself.

Or maybe he can't.

For now, he won't bite the hand that feeds him. He won't unless it gets out of control. He won't unless either of them act like he can't do anything for himself, or that he constantly needs to be reminded to do simple things. He could do that. He isn't going to let his disorder get the best of him.

Brendon never replies, and Tyler never pushes for more.

Soon enough, they've finished at the stove. Tyler cooks Brendon one omelet, knowing now that he eats in small portions for the most part, and the three of them end up sitting at the table after Josh pours Jim some food into his bowl.

He hands Brendon a cup of coffee in a mug that says _#1 Dad_ on it. He only laughs through his nose and takes a sip.

"We should probably talk about what's going to happen while we're gone for the wedding," Josh states once he's sat down.

"All we'd really need to do is show him where stuff is, and I'll have to write everything down for Jim." Tyler talks, and Brendon listens. He's not so sure he'd have any input on the situation, for now. "We try to get him out at least once a day, do you think you might be able to take him on walks?"

Brendon doesn't like the idea of taking him outside of the house without supervision. If anything happens, it's all on _him_.

"Uh. . . I'm not sure." He mumbles.

Tyler only nods, them and Josh continuing the conversation while Brendon is just focused on finishing all of his food.

***

Surprisingly, he _does_ finish eating everything on the plate, and he _does_ finish his coffee this time. He's sure it's because he's beginning to feel more comfortable around them, and their home. His stomach doesn't twist and his throat doesn't tighten; he gets everything down.

He even helps Tyler wash plates, because he supposed he should get used to it considering he'll be staying here a few days.

It doesn't take long for them to finish, and Brendon's heart slams against the tips of his toes when Tyler turns to him and asks, "Should we start heading out?"

He yanks at the hair around the nape of his neck. "I guess."

They're staring at one another for a moment before Tyler pulls Brendon's hand away from himself, instead bringing it to their waist. They bring him into an embrace, one unlike any other. It's tight, it's comforting, it's warm. It's everything he needs right now and more. They dig their fingers into his shirt and rest their chin on his shoulder, close enough for him to feel their frenetic heart beat.

Are they nervous as well? The thought shocks him.

"It'll be okay." They whisper. Not just to Brendon, to themself.

He nods, hand shaking at their waist.

The two of them pull away from one another, and Brendon feels so unbelievably feeble.

He clears his throat. "You should, uh, you should probably bring the airmatress. There isn't really anywhere to sleep."

Tyler nods, disappearing down the hall while Josh comes in from the livingroom. He'd been running his fingers through Jim's fur as a departure, and Brendon will probably be doing the same thing pretty soon.

"They really care about you," Josh mutters, leaning on the wall. "They hate meeting new people, but they know this is gonna be good for all of us."

Brendon almost feels upset at this, he didn't want to put Tyler through something they're uncomfortable with. "Carina is nice. It'll be okay." He says, biting his lip. Not his cheek. He forgets. "My mom, uh, she-she. . . She's pretty harmless. It'll be okay." The amount of times that phrase has been stated today might drive him insane. It could just be a ticket to a staircase of fallen hope.

Josh gets closer. "You do know it _will_ be okay, right?"

Brendon shrugs.

"I know it's scary, us meeting your mom-- especially because of everything-- but you need to remember this is just one of the steps we need to take if we want this to work out." Josh fiddles with the car keys in his hands. "You'll meet our parents sometime." He smiles. "You'll love my parents. They'll love you."

Brendon keeps quiet, the thought of meeting either of their parents is relieving but also beyond nervewracking at the same time.

He gulps, watching Tyler come back into the room with the airmatress box and a bag around their shoulder.

"Ready?" They ask.

Brendon breathes out, eyes closing. He nods.

He doesn't step out the door until telling Jim goodbye, who's whimpering when realizing everyone is about to leave. Brendon makes sure to give him enough rubs on his stomach beforehand, kissing the top of his head.

Josh locks the door once the three of them are outside.

"How will we get there?" Tyler questions.

Brendon's already making his way to the car. "Just follow me." He says.

Tyler nods, putting everything in the backseat of their car while Brendon sits inside if his. Really, if it was his decision, he'd sit here for another twenty minutes like last time, but he can't. He isn't going to, because it doesn't do him any good.

Soon enough, Tyler and Josh are in their own car, and instead of staying in place, he's driving the direction of the retirement home.

***

Brendon watches Tyler park right beside him, and that uncomfortable feeling in his chest arrives once more. The panic stood at the door is beginning to make its way inside again at just the mere sight of the building.

He can't believe this is real.

Worries flood in like there has been a hurricane, and it fills his stomach until it's churning.

Slowly, though, he's grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. It's still a bit cold outside and he makes a mental note to put on a sweater as quickly as possible, not only because of the weather but because he needs that sense of comfort right now.

He wraps his arms around his stomach like last time, waiting for Tyler and Josh while listening to the beat of his heart. It matches Tyler's from earlier; frantic and downright nervous.

Soon enough, they come out from their car. Josh holding the airmatress box this time, and Tyler holds their bag.

"The whole place is painted pink," is the first thing they say.

Brendon chuckles in a small manner, nodding. It is pink. Not an obnoxious shade, but a very light one that tries to radiate serendipity although that's the last thing you feel inside of there.

It goes quiet.

It's the exact opposite of what's happening in his brain right now.

They both seem to notice this too, and they both try to comfort him. It's subtle, tilts to their heads and touches to his hands. They're asking for an explanation he is scared to admit.

He feels like a burden, it's that simple.

"I feel like I'm going to have another panic attack." He whispers, so faintly he's surprised either of them catch it.

He's not sure why it's so shocking that they don't seem annoyed by this. He'd thought being this high maintenance would push them away, but really, it's only bringing them together.

He considers they really _do_ care for him, and that overwhelms him more.

Brendon isn't sure why he couldn't believe this before.

"We'll stay out here with you until you're ready to go inside, alright?" Josh utters.

Brendon shakes his head. "Let's. . . Let's go inside now. Just, uh, just-just please stay close." He looks at both of them with wide, pleading eyes. He has submit willingly today, and neither of them mind. They'll tend to his needs as long as it helps.

Tyler reaches their hand out.

Brendon glances down at it before up at them again, Adam's apple bobbing and hand trembling as he connects his with theirs.

This will work.

Josh stays close to his side because he can't do much holding a big box, and it's okay. Brendon will hold his hand another time, he's certain he will. So, they begin walking to the front, too many worries still embedded in his head like: _what if Lucy asks who Tyler and Josh are at the counter?_ He wouldn't know how to reply. Or more abstract ones such as: _what if someone from work sees them here with him, like this, hands together and Josh to his side?_

Brendon tries to shake it off, because he knows, for today at least, they've got him. Anything that happens to him, they'll go through it as well.

They walk through the front doors, which open before them, and Brendon is greeted with Lucy at the counter.

She observes momentarily, odd seeing him with anyone else. "Good morning, Brendon." She grins.

He gives his best smile in return, it isn't much. "Just one today, we're staying the night." He mumbles, eyes going anywhere but her eyes. Should he be feeling ashamed? He's not sure. All he's been feeling as of late is ashamed, and he wished it would stop.

Lucy nods, pulling out a Visitor Clip for Josh and handing it to him.

"Thank you," Brendon emits.

That's all that's said before he's clearing his throat and guiding Tyler and Josh upstairs. They look around, grasping everything like the big dining room full of many chairs and tables, as well as the big chandelier that hangs above it all. And once they're on the second floor, the gameroom, too.

Maybe he'll take Tyler in there sometime this weekend, he isn't sure.

Quickly, they make it to his mother's room. Not inside, just standing it front of it, staring at the plaque that says _Grace Urie._

He grabs ahold of the doorknob, but before anything else, he turns around and looks at both of them. "I-I don't know what you're expecting, just. . . Just don't expect much, okay? I-- she doesn't know what she's saying half the time, either, so if she says something really harsh-- I'm sorry. She doesn't mean it, and I, and I hope this doesn't ruin--"

"Brendon, we understand." Tyler says, a hand at his shoulder now, too.

He's nearly heaving again, but he still nods.

Finally, he turns back around, and finally, he opens the door. The stupid fucking smell of cinnamon spice invades his system, and he really just wants to yell, or do something. He's so overwhelmed he could cry again.

Grace sits at the couch, Family Feud playing.

This is normal.

"Mom," Brendon calls, closing the door behind them.

She looks over, no expression, really. It's just Brendon with two people she's never seen before in her life, therefore, it's understandable.

"Do you remember me talking about Tyler and Josh?" He asks, and she nods. It's an obvious lie. He knows for a fact she doesn't remember them because why-- how would she? This symptom makes her notorious for lying, but it isn't her fault. "This is them." He then says, heartbeat so loud in his ears he could go deaf soon.

Grace smiles, waving meekly at them. "Hello."

Tyler and Josh both purse their lips into a smile, replying the same way.

Brendon bites his cheek. "Tyler's going to be staying the night with us, and Josh came to meet you."

Over the years, he's learned that explaining everything little by little will help her grasp the situation more. Just like you would to a child, because really, she only has the mental capacity of one now.

Grace nods. "That's nice of them."

Brendon's shoulders lift. "They're nice." He glances their way momentarily, subconsciously, before looking back down at his mother. "Did you go downstairs for breakfast today?"

"Yes. Carina made sure I got my coffee exactly how I like it." She states.

Brendon smiles at the mention of Carina. He missed her. "That's good. We'll go back down for lunch, okay?"

Grace nods, again, focus no longer her on son but instead back to the telivision.

Brendon swallows thickly, licking his lips and walking over to Tyler and Josh. "Uh, I'm going to text Carina that you're here." He looks to the small table beside them, full of shit and more shit. "You can just set everything down on there."

They do, and so does he, but not before pulling out a sweater from his bag and slipping it on.

"There isn't much to do in here." He mumbles, hands falling into the pockets of his sweater. "You can try and talk to her, but um, I'm not sure how far you'll get with that. She usually talks about random stuff most of the time, so just, you know, nod."

Ironically, both of them nod in response.

So does Brendon, it's okay.

He pulls out his phone and finds Carina's contact. He'd much rather have them around her right now than his mother. They'd be watching her widdle away, and who wants to see that?

**Tyler and Josh are here if you want to meet them.**

The reply is almost instantaneous.

**Omg!! Yes!**

**Gameroom? My mom has been asking to play chess with Grace since she saw her this morning. (:**

**Yeah. I'll see you there.**

Brendon puts his phone away afterwards. He supposed Tyler and Josh had been watching him this entire time because they definitely are right now.

He runs a hand through his hair. "I just got to get get my mom ready. Carina said she'll meet us in the gameroom."

Josh now has the Visitor Clip on his shirt, hand resting on Tyler's back. "Awesome." He states, looking genuinely excited. Brendon's guess is because now they're going to meet his, really, only friend. He knows he'd like to meet their friends too at some point, so this is definitely something a lot more thrilling than what just happened.

Brendon turns back to his mom. "Want to go to the gameroom? Carina and her mom are coming."

Grace can't say no, she loves Carina.

"Of course." She says.

So, they spend the next fifteen minutes or so helping her get into something more fitting for the outside of her room. Josh and Tyler help, and he thinks that maybe this really will work. It seems so little, but to Brendon, this is probably the biggest part of it all. 

Finally, the four of them are out the door and helping Grace make it to the gameroom. Once they do, Carina and her mother are already there. It's no surprise because it had taken a lot longer than expected, but they're here now, and so is the paranoia of something horrible happening.

Carina immediately stops the game of chess she'd been playing with her mother and jumps out of her seat, hugging Brendon tightly. It's reassurance that's she's there, even when the situation is absurd.

"I can't even tell you how ready I am to get to know them." She whispers into his ear, and he smiles before pulling away.

Carina then turns to Tyler and Josh. "Hi! I've been so excited to meet you both."

Josh grins, Tyler doesn't. Brendon watches them go back to that person he once only knew, where they'd never smile but simply give a chuckle here and there. He wished they'd stop, because Carina isn't going to judge them, but if this is how Tyler feels comfortable, he won't to push.

"Us too. Brendon talks a lot about you." Josh says, biting his lip for a moment.

Carina grins even wider. "Funny, he talks a lot about the two of you, too." She's swaying side-to-side happily, but Brendon's flushed in embarrassment. Of course she'd expose that.

" _Stop_ ," he mumbles, helping his mother into the seat in front of Carina's mom.

"But it's true!" She laughs.

Tyler doesn't smile, but he can see how much they want to at the information. Because, yeah, he did talk about the two of them, _a lot_. Especially now that she knows, it's hard not to go on and on.

Brendon shakes his head, the entirety of his face is pink. "We should play cards."

Carina's cheeks are lifted so high, almost in a mischievous manner. She knows Brendon's struggle when it comes to relationship, and she's only teasing him about it. Still, he can't help but feel sheepish.

Everyone agrees on his offer though, and the four of them end up at one of the tables in the room. They settle for playing Slap Jack, Carina and Brendon on one end and Tyler and Josh on the other. Once again, it's almost like déjà vu as he and Tyler's knees bump into one another under the table, but this time, it's a lot less awkward than before. It's almost comforting, for the both of them.

Josh shuffles, he's good at it.

"How long do you plan on staying?" Carina asks in the meantime.

Josh begins passing the cards out. "I have to leave in a little bit, I have someone scheduled, but Tyler's staying over this weekend with Brendon." He informs.

Carina looks a bit surprised at this. "Really?"

Tyler nods. They realize, though, that they still haven't said a thing to her, so they nod faster. "Yeah."

Brendon kind of wants to hug them again. He's known them long enough now to be able to tell when things are off, and Tyler is definitely nervous at the moment. And maybe they were when the three of them first had met too, but then, he never noticed. Now it's so evident, and all he wants to do is comfort them like they do for him, yet he's not sure how. Or if he can. 

"Well that's awesome." Carina hums. "It'll be nice having you around this weekend."

Brendon sees that as his chance. He says, "I agree."

He gets a better reaction than expected; they actually smile at him and purposely hit their knee against his, shaking their head as their lips swallow up their grin.

Josh notices the reaction too, and he seems just as glad to see them open up.

"Who goes first?" He wonders, eyes subtly on them.

Tyler sits up straighter. "I will." 

So, they begin playing. It starts with Tyler, then to Brendon, and Carina, and lastly Josh. They go around at least three time before Brendon slaps the deck when Josh places down a Jack. It's like that for a while, and Brendon gets the stack nearly every single time. Card games are one of the only things he's good at, and he embarrassingly becomes very competitive. 

The four of them don't really talk besides saying, "That was mine!" Or "I slapped it first!" And it's fine, at least Tyler and Brendon are fine with it, but Josh and Carina on the other hand aren't enjoying the silence. This is their time to really open up and get to know one another; this is the first time they're meeting, so he supposed they should converse.

Carina is the one who breaks away from the lack of voice. "Can I be nosey?" She asks.

Brendon isn't so sure what she means by that, and he nearly replies with _no,_ but he doesn't, because he knows she'd never say anything to hurt him, or them.

Josh and Tyler both nod. They're honest people who don't have a problem sharing about their life, he's come to learn that very quickly, so this comes as no surprise.

Carina smiles, placing a card down. "How long have you both been married for?"

"Almost three years." Josh replies, and at the thought, Brendon watches Tyler fiddle with their wedding ring. Moving it up and down their finger repeatedly, distractedly, nervously. Brendon would probably do the same, too.

"That's so cool." She states, cheeks like cherries.

"We still don't really have our anniversary planned, but we've also been together in general for a long time, so it's something that's just kind of become casual." He shrugs, and really, Brendon could listen to them talk about each other all day long if he could.

"How long?"

Brendon braces himself, because he still doesn't believe it.

"Eleven years." Josh states. Then, a cheeky smile pulls at his lips.

Carina's eyes go wide, mouth agape. "That's insane." She shakes her head in disbelief, nonetheless, continuing to play the game. "But it also makes a lot of sense."

Everyone seems a bit confused by that, and she's quick to gasp.

"Oh gosh-- I just meant that I bet it takes a lot of trust to, you know, have another person in your relationship I didn't mean to--"

"No, you're right." Josh says easily. "It's not something you see everyday. But, we trust each other a lot, and in the long run, that's all that matter. We're happy." Brendon slaps the deck, and Josh bites his lip to refrain himself from smiling. "Having Brendon in our life has really just made things a lot better."

The latter breaks away from the daze of his victory at the mention of his name, another round of blush at the tips of his ears. " _Josh_."

"It's true."

Brendon shrinks, he can't make sense of it. "I haven't even done anything. . ."

It's Tyler who speaks up this time. "That isn't true, you make us really happy."

Carina admires the way they're speaking to him, you can just see it in her eyes. Glad that there's people taking care of her best friend when she can't, because although Brendon wouldn't admit it, he's very dependent on people. It isn't always a bad thing, especially not with Tyler and Josh, its been really good for him.

"If you don't mind me asking, what made you two decide to have a third person in your relationship?" She's only curious, protective, and it's okay. Tyler and Josh welcome any worries or questions.

Josh's mouth goes crooked at that one, though.

He scratches the scruff on his chin; he really is growing his beard out.

"I guess we're both more comfortable with having someone else." He lifts his shoulders while speaking, trying to make sense of himself. "It's not that we're not enough for each other. God, no. I love them. It's that we both prefer to have a third person because it's just. . . Better that way. I don't know. I just know that it also benefits our relationship because it takes a lot to trust someone like that. And it takes a lot for someone to trust _us_ like that."

Brendon's listening to every word, because even he didn't know that much. Maybe Carina will continue to ask questions that open his mind.

Tyler had been looking at Josh the entire time, examining every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose to his lips.

They turn to Carina and Brendon. "In other words, I guess we aren't normal." They chuckle a bit to themself.

Tyler is very self-aware.

Carina shrugs. "That doesn't mean anything." She glances over to her mother and Grace, checking up on them for a moment. "Because there's a difference. You and Josh obviously care about him, it's not just for your own benefit. Yeah, maybe I don't understand everything, but that doesn't mean I should judge. As long as you all are happy, that's what matters." They've nearly discarded the game now. "And maybe it isn't normal, but who cares, right?"

Tyler and Josh both purse their lips into a smile.

"Right." Tyler replies.

Carina sets her cards down and leans back into the chair, turning to look at Brendon. "He just means a lot to me and all I want for him is to feel comfortable and happy in a relationship."

Brendon's looking at her as well, they're looking at each other. Really, Carina is too good for him. Everyone sitting at this table is too good for him.

How did he get so lucky?

"That's what we want to give him." Josh mutters, then is checking the time on his phone. He starts to stand up, and a flash of panic goes across Tyler's face. "I have someone at noon, so I have to get going." He looks down at Carina with a cheery face. "It was really nice to meet you."

Carins grins. "It was nice to meet you too!"

Josh nods and goes around the table to Brendon, reaching his hand out. He grabs it easily, and Josh is helping him out of his seat, pulling him into a hug. "I'll see you later." He whispers. "And take care of Tyler, okay?" Brendon nods frantically, because, why wouldn't he? It's the least he could do for them, so he'll try his best.

Josh holds him just a bit longer before pulling away. He looks at Tyler instead, cocking his head to the side to indicate that the two of them should talk somewhere else.

Tyler understands. They stand, connecting hands with him and are lead off to the hall where they could speak privately.

As soon as they do, Carina grabs Brendon's wrist. "I like them." She says.

He pushes out a breath of relief. "Fuck, thank god."

Carina frowns at the reaction. "Did you think I wasn't going to?"

"No-- I don't know. I didn't, it's just. . . I've been so nervous of something going really bad and," he sighs. "To have the three of you meet is just really scary because you all mean so much to me and if anything happened, I. . . I wouldn't know how to take it." He falters, he's not sure the nerves will ever end today.

He then glances over to Tyler and Josh only because he's curious. He watches Tyler listen, and nod, holding onto Josh like they might never see him again. It's obvious he's reassuring them, because he's doing the exact same thing he did when they had gotten into that argument last time.

They pull apart just a little, Josh's hands at their waist while Tyler's rest at his shoulders. They say something so clear it's hard to miss. _I love you._ Passed between them before he goes, and Brendon is also watching when they kiss. First, it's to Tyler's nose, then, their cupid's bow, and finally, their lips. Tyler pulls him in close when it happens, and one hand ends up at his chin to guide it.

Their eyes close, they're savoring it.

It lasts longer than usual, the two of them continuing to go in for more and Brendon wants to look away because he should, but he's not. He doesn't, no, not until at least the sixth kiss when Tyler opens their eyes and looks _directly_ at him.

His face is flushed when he turns away, heartbeat increasing.

Brendon completely missed what Carina had said, but he pretends he doesn't. It isn't long before Tyler's back to the table, sitting down in front of him with the subtlety of a smirk on their face.

"Josh is really nice," Carina says.

Tyler nods, but underneath the table, they're hitting knees with Brendon again. Definitely purposely; it's like another form of footsie.

Brendon swallows thickly, because he already knows this weekend with just the two of them has a lot in store.

 


	30. Open

Lunch comes around quicker than expected. Brendon would assume it was because he, Tyler, and Carina were having a pretty good time playing cards. Well, cards for a while, then they switched to Pictionary, and Brendon quickly learned Tyler should definitely stick to writing in comparison to their art.

He never said anything, but once it had been their turn when the three of them first started playing, neither him nor Carina could guess what they had been drawing.

"Sheep," he muttered, unsure.

Tyler shook their head.

Carina looked a bit closer as they continued to draw, gasping. "Spaghetti!"

Tyler's eyebrows raised and pulled together, shaking their head once again. They were about to keep on going in hopes someone would eventually get it, but they had run out of time.

They huffed, sitting back.

"What was it?" Brendon asked.

Tyler ran a hand through their hair; it's been growing out a lot. He still wondered if they'd shave it again, or if maybe them and Josh both were commiting to not shaving.

"It was a Christmas tree." They deadpanned.

Carina and Brendon both looked at each other, pursing their lips together to hold themselves back before turning to Tyler once more.

"Oh," Brendon nearly laughed.

Of course, he never did.

Now, though Pictionary had been very-- unintentionally-- amusing, everyone migrated downstairs after cleaning up the gameroom for lunch. Grace sat to Brendon's right, and Tyler sat at his left. They sat closer than normal, too. The both of them were nearly thigh-to-thigh, but he assumed it was because Tyler had been missing the closeness Josh constantly gives them.

Brendon will have to compensate, and hopefully that's okay.

"What do they serve here?" They ask, quietly so it was only shared between them.

Brendon grabs the menu, reading it off to them one by one, and explaining how it the entire thing works. The employees bringing around a cart for beverages; water, coffee, sometimes hot chocolate, and then will later come back to ask what they'd like to eat.

"What do you think is the best?" Tyler then wonders once he read the choices outloud.

Brendon looks up from the menu to look at them. Why did his opinion matter? They connect eyes, but he quickly glances back down and clears his throat. "Uh, I mean. . . I like the chicken and rice. . .?"

Tyler hums. "I'll get that, too."

"Okay."

So, they both ask for coffee, and Brendon decides his mom needs water instead. Time passes and the conversation is steady enough, Tyler's hand slowly holding onto Brendon's knee the longer they sit there until that hold turns into a tight grasp.

The two of them connect eyes as it happens, but neither of them say a word about it.

Tyler only asks, "What's your favorite meal?"

Brendon thinks they're weird. Tyler has the tendency to ask out of the blue questions, and most of them are about food, too. It's nothing important but Brendon doesn't mind; in fact, in a way, it's charming. They're getting small things out of him.

He lifts his shoulders. "I don't know. I've never thought about it."

Still, they both are speaking quietly to each other. Carina glances their way and rolls her eyes with a smile, but it's okay. Sometimes the two of them just need themselves.

"Well, think about it." Tyler says.

Brendon purses his lips. "Why?"

They look at him incredulously, like it's obvious. "I want to make you your favorite food sometime. So, I need you to think about it, or else I can't do that."

Brendon's heart might have skipped a beat. All these random questions _are_ important.

He nods, small. "Okay."

Tyler nods as well. "Good."

That's how the conversation ends; their hand still on his knee for awhile until the food finally arrives, and Tyler is quick to pull away. Brendon, on the other hand, doesn't have the chance to tend to his food because it's the constant cycle of helping his mother with hers first before anything else.

Immediately, too, she looks at him.

"Grab the spoon," he mutters.

Slowly, he watches her grab a fork.

He's quick to take it out of her hand and switch it to a spoon. "Spoon." He repeats, states. She got the soup, so today, the eating process should come a lot easier for her than other times. "Can you do it from here?"

Grace licks her lips. "Yes." And, surprisingly, she does do it herself, correctly, on the first try.

Brendon's nearly in disbelief, but nonetheless, gets comfortable in his seat again and takes the first bite of his own food. He looks to Tyler afterwards, who chews with a napkin at their mouth before turning to him.

"This is actually pretty good." They muse.

Brendon shrugs, shaking his head. "Anything you make is better."

The compliment comes naturally, and he doesn't realize he even said it until Tyler rolls their eyes and smiles. He doesn't realize he even said it until Carina turns to Tyler and asks, "Are you a chef?"

"I wouldn't say I'm a chef, I just like to cook." They take a sip of their coffee.

Brendon glances at them before looking to Carina. "They're better than a chef."

Tyler chuckles. "I think Josh is rubbing off on you."

Probably. It's the only thing that makes sense.

"You know it's true." Is all Brendon replies with, heartbeat increasing because it's unlike him to do this. He bites his lip and taps his foot at the thought; this probably wouldn't last very long.

Tyler has an upturn on their lips. "But if I say that, it just sounds cocky."

Brendon dismisses that and leans forward a bit to look at Carina. "They really are a good cook. Everything else never tastes as good after you've had their food. I swear." Carina's response is a smile full of temptation, nodding, but something doesn't seem right.

Something _really_ doesn't seem right when she looks nervous as she turns to Tyler, certain thoughts in her head, and Brendon wished he could just read her mind. A thing as simple as her expression makes him uneasy.

What is she thinking about, anyways?

It turns out, Brendon didn't need to read her mind to know, because she timidly opens up. "That reminds me, I've been. . . I've been meaning to ask you something."

Tyler seems a bit surprised by that, but instead of shying away, nods along. "Yeah?"

Carina breathes heavily, glancing down at her hands for a moment. "I don't mean to be invasive or anything-- I just, I want to understand because, to me, it's a big part of who you are."

Brendon knows what she means, now.

Tyler seems to as well, yet continues to let her speak.

"I just think it's important for you to explain it more to me because it's something I need to understand, especially from you." Carina seems nervous, and it's completely understandable. She's asking for an explanation of who _Tyler_ is. "Is that okay?"

There's no hesitance in their actions, and if there is, Brendon never caught it. "Of course."

So, Brendon sits back, trying not to let his mind run at the fact that he's soon to hear Tyler talk about their identity in person for the first time. He's heard it from Josh countless times, but now, it's different. So much different. Josh may be married to Tyler, but he isn't the one experiencing everything. Tyler knows every single detail, and Brendon isn't sure if he's ready to hear it all.

Still, he has no choice, because Tyler's ready.

They hum, trying to process everything they just might say, and Carina waits patiently, giving them as much time as they need.

Finally, Tyler swallows, looking to her. "I guess what I should say first is that I don't conform to either gender. The thought makes me sick. Confused.  Uncomfortable." They shake their head while speaking, leaning against their hand. "In the beginning, I didn't understand. I just knew who I was then, wasn't me. It didn't feel right, and really, it was just tormenting because of everyone knowing me by _he._ " They visibly gulp, Adam's apple bobbing. "That isn't me. Even just saying that makes me feel gross."

Brendon can't seem to pick his head up from his lap; Tyler's words suffocating his mind.

"It took me a long time to realize it was more than just something I could overcome, because the more I thought about it, and the more people referred to me, the worse it got." Deep breath, steady sigh. "I learned it was gender dysphoria. And even though I don't conform to either, doesn't mean I can't have it. My gender is neither. Neutral. And for a while, before I told anyone, I started using gender neutral pronouns when it came to myself, before even knowing what non-binary was."

Carina listens to every word intently, nodding, entranced. Tyler, really, is spilling their heart out right now; it's nothing Brendon has ever seen from them.

"The thoughts of maybe I just wanted to be a girl came across my mind a lot, but still, that never felt right. I struggled so much with figuring out who I was, and it really wasn't easy, but after I finally, _finally_ realized what it had been, it's like this huge weight was lifted off my shoulders." They scratch at their elbow in thought. "After months and years of not knowing myself, to finally understand who I am, and look at that label and know _that's_ _me--_ I can't even explain it to you. I know it's not the easiest to understand, really, I do, but I can't help how I feel, and I just know being referred to as they or them feels right. Like that's how it always was supposed to be."

Tyler looks up from the spot at the table they'd been staring at, turning to Carina. "Does that make sense? Sorry."

Carina seems at a loss of words, and truly, Brendon is too.

Tyler's such an overcoming person it almost burns on the way down, because he hadn't even realized how hard this probably was for them. He's too passive when it comes to these things.

Carina breathes, deeply, with a steady smile. "I do understand. Thank you, really, for telling me that. I understand."

Tyler nods, and stays quiet the rest of lunch. It isn't surprising; they're probably trying to cope with the fact that they just opened up so much to a person they've never met. That's not like them.

It isn't long either before lunch is coming to an end and Brendon says his goodbyes to Carina. He hugs her tightly, arms around her back, and whispers, "Thank you for listening to them." A lump is in his throat as he says it.

Carina shakes her head. "I needed to know. You should be thanking them for telling me."

It's true, Tyler's never been so vulnerable. He needs them to know it's okay, that this will help all of them proceed with a better understanding of something so important.

They pull apart from each other.

"See you later," Carina mutters to the three of them as they begin to walk away.

Tyler waves with Grace, Brendon only smiles.

They both are patient with his mother as she makes it up the stairs, and by the time they're to the second level, Tyler keeps their head hanging low beside the two of them.

With a loud thump in his chest, Brendon grabs their hand. "Are you okay?"

Tyler looks up, eyes connecting, brows furrowed. They nod. "I'm okay." They assure. "I've just. . . I never talk about it outloud to people. And. . . I'm not used to them understanding." They shrug.

Brendon frowns, hand shaking in theirs. "I know I probably should have known sooner, but you explaining it helped me understand a lot more, too. I've. . . I've only ever heard Josh explain it." He bites down hard on his cheek, nerves eating him away the same.

Tyler's eyes travel all around his face before they stop in place, Brendon stopping with them.

"What's--"

Tyler pulls him into a hug, burrowing their nose into his chest and breathing him in. Their hands are tight at his shoulder blades, and Brendon's fall to their sides. "Thank you, Brendon." They utter softly.

His brows pull together. ". . . For what?"

Tyler's heart beats against him, and he wants to feel it forever. "You don't have to do any of this for me, but you do. You choose to respect the way I feel. You make me feel valid. You use the right pronouns and help other people with it, too." They huff. "You're a good person. I'm really lucky to have you. You know that, right?"

Brendon knees go weak, he almost falls. He holds them tighter to steady himself, the lump in his throat getting thicker. "T-Tyler. . . I don't-- I just--" he can't think straight. "It's the least I can do, okay? Please don't act like I'm so great because of something so little."

Tyler shakes their head. "You don't get it." They mutter, grip becoming looser as they pull away to look at him. "It isn't little. It's probably the biggest thing you can do for me, so please, accept that."

Brendon's trembling as he swallows. "Okay," he croaks out.

It's hard for him to believe he's done something significant.

Tyler stares into his eyes and nods, going back to holding his hand. Grace has already made it to her room, so they both walk in sync together, happily. It's good.

***

By the time they should be getting ready to go downstairs for dinner, Tyler looks to Brendon from their spot at the dining chair. "We should go get something to eat instead," they murmur.

Brendon looks up at them, being sat on the floor. They've been watching Family Feud for longer than it was bearable, but his mother didn't think that was the case at all.

"Do you not want to eat downstairs again?" He wonders.

Tyler pulls a knee to their chest. "Is that bad?"

Brendon's quick to shake his head. "Me neither." He admits. He, really, just wanted to spend as much time alone with Tyler as he could this weekend. Grace is a memory in the distance of it all.

Tyler smiles. "Do you think you might be able to grab a rotisserie chicken or something?" 

Brendon begins to stand from the floor with a groan; the ache in his back proceedingly getting worse as the days go by. "I can." He states, then, looks to his mom momentarily before he turns back to Tyler and purses his lips. "Are you. . . Going to be okay with her while I'm gone?" 

Tyler doesn't second guess themself. They nod easily. "I will."

Brendon breathes. "Okay. I'll, uh, take her to the bathroom before I leave."

It takes a while to finally get everything situated before he does leave, and he never tells Tyler that he really didn't want to be by himself in public right now. Hence, he leaves with a meek goodbye and is off on his own anyways, anxiety following him right behind.

***

When Brendon gets back, he storms into the apartment and sets the chicken down distractedly before rushing to his bag and fumbling with one of the zippers. Tyler watches him with worried eyes, only to see him pull out his pen and quickly take a long, long hit of it.

He falls to the couch, not in the right state of mind to worry that his mother isn't beside him.

Tyler stands up and begins making their way to towards him. "Sorry." Brendon breathes, wide eyes staring up at them the closer they get. He didn't want to do this in front of them, but he needs to.

They shake their head, sitting down and pulling him close until his back was to their chest. "It's okay."

"There was just so many people there and I thought I'd be alright but--"

"It's okay." Tyler repeats, chin on his shoulder.

Brendon stops momentarily, nodding, and taking another hit. Being brave wasn't always for him, but he'd still be fine in the long run, because Tyler's here with him.

***

Brendon learns that Tyler had put his mother to bed because she kept insisting she was too tired to stay up any later, and after they tell him, they quietly ask, "Was that alright?"

He shrugs. "She usually can barely make it through dinner time because she's so tired. I don't know what it is." Brendon mutters, he and Tyler sloppily eating the chicken on the couch together, and yeah, he's pretty high, too.

"She called me Mason. Who's Mason?" They then wonder.

Brendon takes a moment to process it, hearing his sibling's name come from their mouth. "My brother."

They nod, leaning back. "I have a brother named Jay. He lives with my parents still." They say, because they can. "I'm pretty sure he's Zack's best man." They continue, lips going crooked.

Brendon has a hard time remembering who Zack is, but he finally understands when thinking about the events coming up. "The wedding." He states, rather loudly as well. "Are you excited?"

Tyler, at the mention, looks the last thing from excited. "It's whatever." They whisper, going no further.

Brendon doesn't push either, he only pulls the left leg off and takes a big bite. He's the least bit embarrassed about being so messy, because Tyler's here with him, doing it the exact same way.

***

"Think we should blow up the air mattress now?" Tyler asks after about an hour or so of them and Brendon sitting side-to-side on the couch, the container that once had the rotisserie chicken in it now empty between them.

"Yeah." Brendon utters, sitting up from the couch and pushing it back as far as he could. "We'll put it here." He points to the big open space he just made, right in front of the television. 

Tyler nods, too busy getting the deflated mattress out to do more.

The next twenty minutes are solely spent on trying to blow up the air mattress, as well as finding blankets and pillows to go along with that. Soon enough, Brendon gets Tyler the best pillow in the apartment and a warm enough blanket, making the bed for them.

Usually he'd be changing into his pajamas by now, but he did that a while ago. He needed to get comfortable after coming back from the grocery store and wearing sweats and a sweater seemed like the best option.

Tyler, though, has yet to change.

He watches them scurry through their bag before bringing out a dark green hoodie, slowly slipping it on.

It's, once again, something Brendon has never seen them in before, but that isn't surprising. Josh had exposed how much clothes they have, and it's a _lot_. The only thing he's seen them wear more than once is their boots.

The color suits them, he thinks.

Brendon huffs afterwards, falling down onto the couch while playing with a piece of his hair.

It's fine, this is fine, watching Tyler is okay until they begin pulling down their jeans without any warning, and Brendon knows this time he should definitely look away, but Brendon also knows he can't find it in himself to do that. He had no intent to invade privacy; Tyler must not mind if they're comfortable changing in front of him, are his thoughts.

So, his eyes continue to wander while his bones rattle in trepidation. An unknown question lies on his shoulders as he looks at them in their briefs.

An answer. It's clear now.

Their boxers are skin tight, and Brendon nearly chokes on his spit at the sight.

Tyler gets their jeans off from around their ankles and tosses them into their bag before turning to Brendon. His only reasonable answer for what's happening is that he's still a bit stoned, because although Tyler is looking directly at him, he continues to stare, and not at their eyes.

That lump in his throat from before comes again, much thicker than usual.

Finally, Brendon looks up at them, and they say nothing to one another. His lips tremble for something, but not a single word comes out, so they're left to stare. Tyler only looks down at him with a face he's grown familiar to; one with little expression and hard eyes.

Are they mad? He shrinks further into the couch.

Their whole frame is uncertainty wrapped in temptation. He glances downwards again, heart skipping a beat before he meets their eyes once more.

Tyler blinks. "Let's go to bed."

Brendon's chest moves up and down, nodding frantically. He slaps the switch off and lets the light from the television consume the room, slowly fluffing out his pillow and unfolding the blanket, trying to get comfortable on the couch.

Tyler's was doing the same, but furrows their eyebrows instead of laying down. "What are you doing?" They ask.

Brendon's overwhelmed. "What?"

"You're not sleeping on the couch." They state. "I thought you were sleeping with me?"

Brendon's eyes go wide, sitting up a little. "What? I-I thought that. . ."

Tyler shakes their head while standing, grabbing his pillow and blanket off the couch and putting them onto the air mattress beside theirs. They reach for his hand, "C'mon."

Brendon's eyes are lit up by the show playing on the screen while looking up at Tyler, hand shaking as theirs connect. They help him off the couch, and tentively, the two of them get on the air mattress instead. He hadn't planned on sleeping with them, not for a long time, so his body is in shock. He feels frozen.

Tyler seems to notice too, and moves them both to lay down.

He didn't expect to sleep with them in the first place, but what he _really_ didn't expect is for them to press against his backside and wrap an arm around his waist.

Tyler breathes on the nape of his neck, and Brendon can just feel everything. He's not sure if his heart is beating because a pleasurable anxiety, or a clinical one.

"Have you ever heard the saying _'_ curiosity killed the cat? _'_ " Tyler whispers.

Brendon's eyes are still wide. He nods. "Yeah."

Tyler only hums in response, hand gripping onto his shirt as they snuggle their nose between his shoulder blades. The affection is lucid, but the allure beneath is what makes Brendon uneasy. Their briefs hold very little to his imagination, especially when they're so close.

He touches the tips of their fingers to register the action. "Can we switch?" He questions sheepishly.

Tyler stays quiet for a moment. "You want to be the big spoon?"

Brendon nods again.

"Okay." They murmur, turning around and pulling Brendon's arm over their waist instead as he turns around as well.

This is better.

The two of them now settle, and Brendon's much more comfortable. He knows Tyler can feel how frantic his heart is beating against their back, but he also knows that's the least of his worries. He can't even remember the last time he's shared a bed with someone besides his mother, and that's the thought that keeps his head spinning. A reminder that he, Josh, and Tyler are going places.

He exhales deeply, eyes screwing shut.

Tyler seems to be having troubled thoughts as well, because they whisper, "I haven't slept without Josh in a really, really long time."

It's not surprising, but he also has the instinct to comfort them, so the first thing that comes from his mouth is his insecurities and nothing more. He's hoping that being vulnerable himself will ease them down.

"I haven't slept with anyone in a really, really long time." He admits quietly.

Tyler shuffles around in his hold until they face him. They're extremely close, and he supposed they notice too because they tuck their face into his chest, hand slowly running through his hair opposed to being nearly nose-to-nose.

Brendon's eyes close lightly as he hums, gravitating towards the touch.

He can feel Tyler smile against him. "You like that, don't you?"

Brendon's face flushes a bit. He only lets out a meek noise. They take that as an answer and run with it; playing with some of his hair, combing through it, and even massaging his scalp. It's something he'd forgotten he liked so much, but now that it's happening, he doesn't want it to stop.

"Josh loves it when you do stuff with his hair, too." They then mutter.

A mischievous tug pulls at Brendon's lips because of the mention. He doesn't know why he's being so overbearing tonight, but he is.

"What about you?" He asks, body jolting as he laughs unevenly.

Tyler quickly catches on to what he is hinting, and chuckles with him. They shake their head and tug gently at a strand of his hair. "You're funny," they utter, biting their lip. "My hair _is_ growing out, though. I hate it. I need to shave it again."

Brendon almost frowns. "Why?"

Tyler sighs, the movements of their hand stopping. "I overanalyze everything. I'm sure it's not as big as a deal as I make it out to be." Brendon can feel their eyelashes flutter against the exposed skin of his chest; he shivers.

"What do you mean?"

He's met with silence, for a while. Maybe he asks for too much.

Finally though, Tyler speaks up. "It doesn't matter."

Brendon isn't satisfied. So what if he's being invasive? He supposed in some instances he has the right to, and this is definitely one of them. "You can tell me." He whispers. "I want to know."

Tyler pulls away, far enough until they're no longer pressed together, but are able to face one another without being uncomfortably close. Their lips are raw and their eyes are more wide than he's used to. It's a pretty sight.

"Do you really want to know?"

Brendon only rests an arm at their waist, giving his full attention.

Tyler nods, huffing. They look up at the ceiling before beginning. He'd assume it's because they have a hard time opening up, and they can use anything right now as a distraction. The thought makes his heart ache; a realization that Tyler _has_ been opening up a lot to him recently, and for the most part, it has gone unnoticed.

Not now. He has no intent to let the significance pass.

"Appearance has a lot to do with the way people perceive you." They murmur, playing with the string of their hoodie. "And for me, that's something I struggle with a lot. The way people perceive me."

Soon enough, their eyes meet his again. Shadows falling into every crevice, but pores illuminated by the television. There's never a time where Tyler doesn't look good, and it's envious. Appealing. Sexy, even.

"It's the little things that bother me most, I'd say." They whisper, trailing a finger over Brendon's eyebrow. "My posture. My voice. My hair."

They examine his features, and he does the same.

"I have a constant need to claim certain apects of myself. I can do that with my appearance, because it's one of the only things I can control." Brendon feels bad for not fully understanding what that's supposed to mean, but luckily, Tyler continues. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think a lot about people's opinions of me. Their impressions. I don't want their first thought to be that they're looking at a man, but I also don't want it to be of a woman. So what do I do then? I can only try my hardest to be neutral."

Brendon blinks a few times, stomach almost in a churn because he knows his first thought when seeing a picture of Tyler was that Josh is with another man.

But the more he looks back on it, he quickly realizes Josh _did_ say husband, and that label is very misleading in this case.

"I do what I feel happy with. The way I present myself is how I'm comfortable, and I don't know if I ever get the message across, but I also know I'm probably looking for false hope in the first place." They swallow audibly. It's disheartening. "Shaving my head makes me feel in between, and I like that. I like that I'm able to look in the mirror and not be confused with the way I dress, or how short my hair is buzzed."

Brendon's hand tentatively moves to run through it, and Tyler allows it.

"If it's long, it's feminine. If it's at an average height, it's masculine. So, when it's shaved, isn't it neutral?" They wonder, but Brendon's not sure if he'll ever have the answer.

Tyler licks their top lip in thought. "See, I don't know, and that's why I need to claim it as that. Shaving my head _is_ neutral. Shaving my head _is_ non-binary."

Brendon thinks he gets it enough. "So why haven't you shaved it?"

Tyler's eyes scan his before looking away, back at the ceiling. "That's for another time."

He won't push. Definitely not now. Not when Tyler has exposed so much of themself in one day, because he knows for a fact it isn't simple to do that. Not for them.

"Okay."

It goes quiet.

Tyler glances at him cautiously before slowly pulling him close once more.

"I don't care what you say, I'm the big spoon." They state in a mere whisper. They press against his backside again, and Brendon sheepishly turns around so they can hold him. He's pliant. It's no secret. Though, because of Tyler being so embracing tonight, he doesn't mind this time.

He closes his eyes instead and welcomes the feeling of having someone this close, trying his hardest to ignore the tension he feels in his chest because of what little fabric lays beneath Tyler's waist. This is okay, he knows it is, and it's okay when he feels Tyler puff out a breath against his shoulder and rest one of their hands in his hair, delicately twisting strands around their finger.

Brendon barely gets out a hum, but Tyler hears it, and slowly connects their other hand with his, arm wrapped around his side.

"Goodnight." They utter, breath soft.

Brendon swallows thickly, grasp becoming tighter for a moment. "Goodnight."


End file.
